


Getting a feel for the new ally and chill

by Asier



Series: The "Lotor isn't a total dick" universe [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abandonment Issues, And I do what i want so Lotor is not going to be nearly as much of a bitch, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bonding, Gen, Implied/Referenced Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Past Self-Harm, Keith will be interacting with everybody in some way shape or form, Most of the characters are trans or nb, Started before season 6 was released, Team as Family, Trans Keith (Voltron), like: scratching and bruising, minor self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-05-15 01:31:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14781080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asier/pseuds/Asier
Summary: Keith met his mother and that was just the cherry on top of the mass of conflicting emotions he's been harboring about... a lot of things. Unable to focus and nothing more than a liability as a result of it, he gets sent back to the Castle of Lions for some r&r and while there he starts up the process of being reintegrated into his space family and has some bonding moments with Lotor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The second chapter will hopefully (ideally) be up in like 2 weeks. I wanted to write this all at once and publish it as a single chapter, but we're getting closer to the season 6 coming out and I'm afraid that'll destroy my motivation if I haven't already published something, so this chapter is mostly set up chapter 2. Also, there may be a second part to this fic; I haven't decided if I actually wanna go for it yet, though.

Keith didn’t have off time.

 

It just wasn’t feasible what with the missions for the Blade of Marmora, the training for said missions, and the passing out for much needed rest – face-planting onto his bed and dropping off into deep, dreamless sleep – when neither of the former activities demanded his attention. His body was constantly aching with the burn of exertion and the sleep he was getting definitely wasn’t enough, a miracle considering the fact that he couldn’t really remember a time when his sleep schedule hadn’t been fucked up, but he couldn’t really say he was opposed to the busy schedule. After all, it had been keeping his thoughts off of all of the things he didn’t want to dwell on.

 

Like everyone in the Castle of Lions – their safety and whether or not they missed him.

 

His confusion about Lotor – the change from his status as an enemy to that of an ally having slammed into Keith like whiplash.

 

His parents – his father practically a lost cause after all this time and the existence of his mother a newfound mystery.

 

All in all, Keith, with his busy days, didn’t have the time to focus on his _emotions_ and he _liked_ it that way.

 

It kept things simple.

 

It kept things like loneliness and sorrow at bay, their encroaching fog fighting against him constantly – ever present in the heaviness of his limbs as he drifted off to sleep, hiding away in the ‘mission first’ attitude of the Blades, and surging forward every time he saw his team (his _old_ team) through a screen from behind Kolivan.

 

Every time Keith felt a reverberating ache in his chest, its echo thrumming through his body like the strike of a gong, and brushed it off as nothing more than his usual physical pains as he threw himself into more, more, _more_ until the ache was nothing more than a shadow of itself, waiting to regain its strength.

 

That being said, Keith was currently _very much_ indulging in free time.

 

Not only was he on what could probably be considered a mini-vacation, said vacation was taking place at the Castle of Lions, the occasion of which revolved around Keith’s entire world having, once again, been thrown into chaos.

 

After meeting Krolia, _his_ _mother_ , his busy schedule had… stopped being enough.

 

The trip back to the base had been a blur. Krolia must have noticed Keith’s struggle to focus on what she was saying – a cumulation of his struggle to understand, to come to terms, to figure out what to feel – because she quickly abandoned speaking to him, instead just staring at him with a faint smile on her lips, a compliment on his piloting slipping between them at some point, dredging up a tangled mass of pleasure and discomfort that curled sickly in Keith’s stomach.

 

The weight of her eyes on him had made Keith feel like he was suffocating. He’d wanted her to look away. He’d simultaneously wanted her to never take her eyes off of him. Each time he accidently caught her gaze he felt a rush of… something. Something like wonder and amazement. Something like nausea and the need to escape.

 

Keith had called Krolia his mother.

 

The word had forced its way out of his mouth as the implications of what she’d said hit him, landing like a physical blow – a hint even _he_ was capable of catching, but on that trip back to the base he felt the word take on an abstraction, spurred by the pressing, simple thought of, _I don’t know this woman_.

 

The thought had interjected itself sharply into his mind, pushing aside all of his hesitant curiosity and riling up the sick nausea in his stomach.

 

His gaze had caught hers again and, unbidden, _I don’t know this woman_ , repeated itself, tainted by a sense of weary finality. As if it’d caused a splintering crack in a dam, his thoughts went on a mother-themed tailspin because, for that matter, did he even know what a mother _was_ in the first place?

 

He picked the word – ‘mother’ – apart, examined its contents – vague recollections of what he had heard of Shiro’s, Lance’s, Hunk’s, and Pidge’s. He wondered if there was room inside of it for a stranger, a woman defined in his life by nothing more than her absence and the blade she’d left with his father.

 

Standing in the entry of the Castle of Lions days later, Keith still wasn’t sure. It was the whole reason he was there, the uncertainty. With no sense of direction, he’d confronted Kolovin the second he and Krolia had gotten to the base – asking, pleading, accusing, “ _Did you know_?” Worse still, he couldn’t focus, taking hits in training that he should have easily been able to dodge and avoiding his mother despite her occasional attempts to approach him. His problem was obvious, Kolovin had said as much; that he clearly needed space, time to sort out his head, his emotions too out of control for his own good.

 

A visit to the Castle of Lions had been prescribed like medicine and with hardly a few hours’ worth of warning to Allura and everyone else, off he was sent, scarcely putting up any sort of argument – the sting of his recent, brutal losses while training presenting unavoidable proof of his current uselessness. He’d arrived tired and resigned and had been swept up in tight hugs that had him stifling groans of pain as the deep purple bruises that were spread about his body throbbed.

 

They all seemed happy to see him – concerned and confused, the nature of Keith’s return having been kept to nothing more than that he needed a leave of absence, but happy.

 

It was Lance, in his usual abrasive fashion, who brought up Keith’s obvious worn out condition. After his hug, Keith had gotten his face grabbed, gently manhandled from side-to-side while Lance peered at him, saying, “You look like shit, man. Have you been sleeping at all?”

 

Keith rolled his eyes and brushed Lance’s hands off of him. “Of course I’ve been sleeping,” he replied, not totally a lie since he _had_ gotten a couple hours over the past few days, but definitely not the whole truth. “Not everyone takes such painstaking care of their skin.”

 

Lance crossed his arms, cocking his hips. “Yeah, well, no one else here looks like a racoon, either.”

 

Keith’s frown was quickly swept away by a surprised expression as his arm was grabbed and he was yanked downwards. He found himself level with Pidge. She threw an arm over his shoulders and, facing Lance, gestured between her eyes and Keith’s, indicating their dark circles and bags as she said, “Is the situation I’ve got going on better or worse than his?”

 

Lance contemplated them for a moment. “His is worse. Definitely.”

 

Pidge patted Keith on the shoulder, releasing him. “Yeah, that’s bad. That’s _really_ bad.”

 

“You know,” Hunk said, sidling over and interjecting himself into the conversation, “maybe it’d be best to actually let Keith rest? Instead of just telling him how exhausted he looks. Which,” he looked pointedly at Keith, “you do. You look super tired, please don’t say you’re not.” He pressed his fingers together, smiling kindly – an underlying sternness to it, as if he would not take no for an answer on this matter.

 

“Yeah, um,” Keith said, reaching up to tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, “I would at least like to change, I guess.” He absentmindedly tugged at the collar of his Blade of Marmora suit. “Not sure if I’m really up for a nap right now, but…” His eyes flicked down to the ground then back up, moving from Hunk to Pidge to Lance. “Thanks.”

 

“No, problem,” Lance said, waving a hand. “What’re friends for, if not tactically insulting you into taking better care of yourself?”

 

Keith laughed softly, shaking his head. “Right, well, I’m just gonna head to my room then.”

 

“Oh!” Lance exclaimed with a jolt, his curly hair bouncing with the movement. “Shit, actually, about that.” His expression turned sheepish. “We’ve sort of been _using_ your room.”

 

“Using it?” Keith asked, hesitantly, curiosity and suspicion wrapped snugly around insecurity; the fear that he hadn’t been missed – that they could have delegated his room to storage for some strange reason – rising back up inside of him and resting as a weight in his chest.

 

“Yeah, see, we got it all cleared out after we heard you were coming, but the video game system took a while to move because there’s this really big television and lots of wires that I may or may not have gotten tripped on a few times.” Lance had begun pacing in front of Keith, gesturing while he talked. “So, all that stuff is _out_ , it’s just, we haven’t gotten a chance to, like, tidy up.”

 

“Okay,” Keith began, slowly. “But _why_. There are so many rooms, why use _mine_?”

 

Pidge sighed, loudly, then, like it pained her, said, “I mean, if I’m being totally upfront about it? We all kind of missed you a lot and would end up hanging out in your room, so it just naturally became ‘the place to install the video game system.’ You know.” She scratched the back of her head, wrinkling her nose. “To make spending time in there less weird. And pathetic.”

 

Keith could feel his mood doing a complete 180; a soft, warm fluttering flooding through him – embarrassment and happiness that brought the heat of a blush to his cheeks. “You… You’re serious?”

 

“Do you think I’d admit to something that embarrassing and not even be serious about it?”

 

That made Keith laugh again, harder than the last time, his mouth stretched into a wide grin. A sense of contentment he hadn’t felt in a while took over, tension leaching from his body and leaving a comfortable weightlessness in its absence. “You guys are so lame,” he says, the words laced with affection.

 

Lance proceeded to splutter out indignations while Hunk, looking amused, patted his back consolingly and promised to make Keith something special for his first day back.

 

It wasn’t until Keith was actually leaving, heading for his room and whatever mess awaited him there, that he realized Lotor was present as well. He was practically hidden away in a corner of the room, flicking through a data pad. Keith must have glanced over at just the right time because their eyes caught for a moment. Lotor gave a short wave and Keith, feeling a bit awkward, waved back. Keith’s eyes then gravitated to Allura, who was closer to the center of the room, deep in a discussion with Shiro – too preoccupied to keep Lotor company, Keith supposed.

 

After entering the hallway, all potential thoughts of Lotor were quickly brushed aside as he heard himself being chased down. He paused and turned and the second his eyes landed on Lance, Lance’s jog turned into a lope.

 

“Hey,” Lance said, when he came to a stop, shoving his thumbs through his belt loops. He peered around like he was making sure they were alone, even though they both knew everyone else had been left behind in the main room.

 

“Hi?” Keith said, watching him curiously. A beat of silence and Keith prompted, “Did you need something?”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Lance began tapping his fingers on his hips, a seemingly haphazard rhythm to it. “Um, are you okay?” Keith blinked at him and when he didn’t immediately respond Lance continued. “Because first we hear you need a last-minute leave of absence and then get here and you’re not sleeping well? It’s…” Lance sighed. “Well, you can’t blame me for being concerned.” He stared at Keith as he spoke, as if he thought he could convey that concern through nothing more than the power of his eyes.

 

Keith frowned, crossing his arms. He thought about mentioning his mother, briefly, the suggestion a whisper across his consciousness that was quickly dismissed by the wave of panic it brought with it. Instead, he found himself shrugging. “I think you guys are right and I just need some sleep, is all.” He couldn’t hold Lance’s gaze as the words fell out of his mouth.

 

“You sure? They aren’t overworking you over there or…”

 

Keith snorted. “Please, I do that myself, nobody needs to give me help.” His gaze flicked back up to Lance and quickly dropped again as he saw the pull of worry in the furrow of Lance’s eyebrows marring the light amusement on his face. “Anyway, I’ll see you later. Maybe I _will_ take that nap, after all.”

 

“Okay. If we don’t see you by dinner, we’ll come get you; or save you something.”

 

Keith nodded. “Alright.” When he turned back around, a yawn bubbled up, stretching past his mouth. He pressed his fingers into his eyes, rubbing at them, weariness slamming into him all of a sudden – like all it took was coming home for his body to truly relax; like up until this point he’d been living fueled by anxiety rather than real energy and now, with that anxiety clearing away, there was nothing left to keep him going.

 

Keith’s room wasn’t actually that bad. There were pillows and blankets piled up in a corner that hadn’t been there before and the floor probably needed to be swept, but he hadn’t actually had anything in there to be made a mess of in the first place. Keith barely got out of his Blade of Marmora suite before he passed out, kicking it off and leaving it in pieces on the floor – a trail leading straight to his bed, where he promptly collapsed, burying his head in his pillow, heavy eyes, that were burning with the effort of staying open now, slipping closed. The covers were a bit chilly with disuse, but something about them brought a sense of comfort that pulled him from consciousness even as his body shivered.

 

When Keith had reached the Blade of Marmora’s base, his mother had reached out for him. Her claws had brushed his skin as he’d danced away, just out of her reach, the discomfort that had built up the whole ride back sending a shudder through his body. For a brief instant Krolia had stared at him, her mouth a small ‘o’ of surprise, maybe, or displeasure, Keith couldn’t tell, but then she’d gotten her expression under control. Emotion had bled from her features as she let her hand drop to her side. She’d taken a step back from Keith, watching him calmly.

 

“If you want to talk at all,” Krolia had said, slowly, as if she were feeling out the words, testing the impact they may have on Keith before unleashing them, “I’ll be around.” She’d then turned, sweeping away from him with little more than a single backward glance.

 

Keith had watched her go, wishing he knew how to feel. Wishing his insides weren’t a tangled mess and his heart which was now calming down at her absence wasn’t simultaneously breaking. He’d stood there for a while, arms crossed tightly, squeezing, his forearms digging into his chest, as if the answer to keeping it together was to do so manually. As if he’d been sliced open and the only thing keeping his insides from spilling out onto the floor was his crossed arms and the pressure – pressing, clutching, a bruising force, so tight he could feel his ribs protesting.

 

When Keith had showered later, after his confrontation with Kolovin, Keith had caught a glimpse of purpling skin right where his crossed arms had been. He’d poked at the tender area, wincing at the unnecessary conformation that he had, indeed, bruised himself. And then, over the next few days that bruise hadn’t even mattered anymore, overtaken by the failures of his training – his entire body throbbing, throbbing, throbbing.

 

When Keith woke, it was from a dreamless sleep, his legs tangled up in his blanket and overheating while his torso was left bare and chilly. He lifted his head from his pillow, lower back twinging slightly from his having fallen asleep on his stomach, and he made a vaguely disgusted noise at the feeling of drool on his cheek. He swiped the spit away with his hand and flipped his pillow over, then laid back down for a few more minutes, staring blankly at the far wall – letting himself just exist: an arm hanging over the edge of the bed, his breathing steady and deep, his limbs throbbing in a way that made him wonder if they would ever stop.

 

With a sigh, Keith pushed himself out of bed, a bit unsteady on his feet, and half-stumbled to the back wall of his room, pressing the panel that would reveal his closet. A portion of the wall slid back with a faint hissing sound, presenting a decent-sized alcove with two shelves along the bottom and a bar, level with Keith’s head, near the top. He grabbed a fresh outfit – made via a machine that Coran had unearthed, the fabric soft and flexible and the design imitating, with slight variation, the clothes that Keith had first come to space in – making sure to take one of the long-sleeved shirts. He also grabbed the towel that he’d hung over the bar and snatched up his compression sports bra from where it’d been thrown to the floor.

Though his stomach protested, Keith’s first order of business was a shower – he could sense the absolute chaos his hair must be in and his skin felt gross with sweat and spit. His room was only three doors down from the communal bathroom, but he decided not to risk being spotted sporting a litany of bruises and put on the underclothes to his Blade of Marmora suit before stepping out.

 

The hallway was empty, the lights dimmed slightly – the way they tended to be a few hours before everyone turned in for the night. Keith figured that must mean they had let him sleep, rather than waking him up for dinner. The thought of food waiting for him spurred him on and he showered quickly, tossing his underclothes into the nearby disinfectant machine to be cleaned while he got ready. He was in and out in a matter of minutes, pants on with a towel slung over his shoulders while he leaned against the disinfectant machine, waiting impatiently for it to be done, his arms crossed with a finger tapping incessantly at his forearm. A sharp ‘buzz’ announced its completion and, clothes sticking to his still slightly damp skin, Keith made his way towards the kitchen, stopping to drop off his Blade of Marmora underclothes in his room but keeping his towel around his shoulders, occasionally squeezing at his dripping hair.

 

As Keith got closer to the designated living room, he began to hear voices filtering over to him. Instead of bypassing it and heading straight for the kitchen, Keith headed over, making a split-second decision that if he wanted food it would be better to ask Hunk to navigate the kitchen rather than attempting to do so himself.

 

Lotor and Allura were seated on one of the sets of steps, Coran on the second set, and everyone else squeezed together onto the semi-circular couch. A few steps into the room and Keith had multiple pairs of eyes on him, all of them quickly shifting from welcoming to deeply confused, as the on-going conversations cut off.

 

“Uh,” Keith began, feeling extremely self-conscious. He surreptitiously glanced down at his arms, making sure the sleeves hadn’t somehow ridden up during his walk and, sure enough, nothing was visible. Keith’s eyebrows furrowed as he raised his gaze. “Should I… go? Or something?”

 

“Oh! No!” It was Hunk who said this, the first to jump out of his stupor. “You, um, you just woke up?”

 

“Yeah.” Keith narrowed his eyes, suspiciously.

 

“Have you… seen yourself?” Hunk swiped his fingers diagonally along his right cheek.

 

Keith frowned, touching the area Hunk had indicated. He didn’t _feel_ anything strange. “No, not really. Why?”

 

Lance had stood up while Keith was talking, walking up the steps past Coran and over to Keith, digging a hand in one of his pockets. He pulled out a compact mirror, opening it and handing it over to Keith. “Dude,” Lance said, his eyebrows raised, “you’re turning purple.”

 

“What!?” Keith exclaimed. He snatched up the mirror, peering at himself wildly, his mouth dropping open when he spotted the large, triangular, purple mark stretching across his right cheek, the point near his inner eye, the rest of it moving diagonally downwards and disappearing around the curve of his neck. “What the _fuck_!?” On some level, Keith was aware that this mark looked exactly like the ones on his mother’s face, but that knowledge was shoved aside in favor of outright astonishment and bewilderment at the mark’s sudden appearance.

 

Hunk had come over while Keith was examining himself and taken up the task of hovering worriedly nearby. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked. “Is anything wrong? You’re not, like, dying are you?”

 

While Hunk was concerned, Lance was quite clearly excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his words a rush as he said, “What if it keeps spreading. Hey, Keith, does it feel weird?”

 

“ _Weird_?” Keith asked, lowering the compact to fix Lance with an annoyed look. “Why would it feel _weird_?”

 

“I don’t know. I’ve never had my skin _suddenly turn purple_ before,” Lance replied, his voice taking on a defensive edge.

 

Keith, his mouth settling into a pout, clicked the compact shut and offered it back to Lance. “No, it doesn’t feel weird.” His hand freed, he rubbed at the area, saying, “It just… feels like skin.”

 

Lotor had risen from his spot next to Allura and walked over to Keith, his head tilted in confusion. “I don’t understand the commotion. Surely it can’t be that shocking for you to have revealed your marking?” The question was directed towards Keith, but Lotor was glancing between Hunk and Lance with furrowed eyebrows and a displeased frown.

 

“People suddenly developing this sort of thing is actually a really shocking occurrence for humans,” Hunk said.

 

“Oh,” Lotor said, his face clearing up. “I see, well, I’m fairly certain Keith would have been born with this mark, so there’s no need to worry about any ‘sudden development.’”

 

“Hold on!” Keith exclaimed. “I think I’d know if I was born with this.” He gestured towards the mark.

 

“You weren’t aware?”

 

“Absolutely not!”

 

Lotor began reaching out, as if he wanted to touch the mark himself, but when Keith took a step back he let his hand drop. “Well, it _is_ actually entirely possible for you to have been concealing it without knowing.” He paused, tapping a finger to his mouth in thought. “Have you been particularly stressed lately? That may be what’s gotten the mark to reveal itself.

 

“I mean,” Keith crossed his arms, “I was, I guess, but it’s not like I haven’t been stressed before.”

 

Lotor shrugged. “Perhaps it’s reacting to a particular type of stress or stressor? You came back to the castle of lions to relax, correct? If being here has really put you at ease, you may have unconsciously released the camouflage you've been holding up. The key to this, though, would be the stressor or type of stress you've been enduring. It's clearly capable of triggering your ability for sure reason. Is there anything in particular that's been troubling you?”

 

“Now,” Hunk interjected, saving Keith from having to work his way out of responding, “I’m not a biologist. But that doesn’t sound scientifically accurate.”

 

“No, not for some species, but it’s entirely possible that Keith has mixed blood beyond human and Galra. Some race with the ability to change their skin tone, like the Alteans. There are plenty with that ability and it’s completely possible that his Galra parent had ancestors of any number of races. Unfortunately,” this he directed towards Keith, “your human genes seem to hide just about every indication of any other race, so there’s no real way of figuring out, visually, what your heritage encompasses.”

 

“I’m afraid we don’t have any device for that either,” Allura called from where she was seated. “At least, as far as I know. Not much need for one aboard the castle-ship when there used to be a bureau for that purpose.”

 

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up,” Lance said. “How, exactly, could Keith have had no idea about this?”

 

“Children with the ability to alter their skin tone tend to imitate the things around them.” Lotor turned back to Keith. “I would assume your parents would reward you for hiding the mark back when you were too young to really remember. It’s what my caretaker did with me, though I was never actually made to forget what I was hiding in the first place.”

 

The center of attention immediately shifted from Keith to Lotor.

 

“And, if you don’t mind my asking,” Hunk began, “what exactly are you… hiding?”

 

Lotor waved a hand, flippantly. “There's the Altean markings that you all saw when they started glowing, for one, but there’s also my true skin tone.” Allura had gravitated over towards them, stopping by Keith just in time to see Lotor’s skin shift from purple to a light brown. The Altean markings on his cheeks were a pale blue. “The revelation that I’m part Altean would have been… difficult for the Galra elite to accept so the markings were simply inadmissible. As for the rest of me," he gave a loose gesture, indicating the entirety of his body, his skin, "I've been told that my caretaker advised my father that the people would be more amiable to me if I looked a bit more visibly Galra, so purple it was. Honestly, at this point I find it easier to maintain the camouflage than the shift back to my proper skin tone.” He laughed, faintly, but something about his expression struck Keith as strained. Allura must have seen it too, because she placed a hand on Lotor’s shoulder, smiling kindly at him.

 

Amidst Lance’s screaming and Hunk’s drawn out, “Oh!” of fascination, Keith began examining Lotor more closely, taking in his white hair, pointed ears, claws, and the canines that flashed every time he spoke.

 

Unsure which features in particular marked Lotor’s half-galra nature, Keith hesitantly said, “…I’m not going to… develop anything else. Am I?”

 

Lotor, previously frowning at Lance and Hunk, turned to Keith with a much more pleasant expression. Lance and Hunk had quieted down some, though they were still talking animatedly amongst themselves. “Without fully understanding your heritage I can’t really say.”

 

Lance’s eyes were practically sparkling as he said, “Oh my god, Keith, what if you start growing fangs! That would be so fucking cool!”

 

Hunk, looking contemplative, said, “He’d have to lose his canines first though.”

 

“Even better!” Lance said, barely choking the words out around his laughter.

 

“Lance!” Keith exclaimed. “This isn’t funny!”

 

“The mental image I have of you canine-less begs to differ actually.”

 

Keith turned to Lotor with pleading eyes. “My teeth _aren’t_ going to fall out, right? I’m way too old for that by now. _Right_?”

 

Lotor, also, appeared to be suppressing an amused smile as he said, “I really can’t say. Are you an adult by your standards?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then, you probably _are_ past that stage. But, as your friend Hunk said earlier, I’m afraid I’m not a biologist.”

 

Keith groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Great, great, okay. So, losing teeth is a possibility now.” Keith dragged his hands down his face, huffing out a sigh. “Hunk,” he said, turning towards him, “please feed me. I need some comfort.”

 

“Crap, right, you must be super hungry. I’m so sorry, I completely forgot. Come on,” Hunk said, apologetically, practically fussing over Keith as he began to lead the way to the kitchen.

 

As they walked, Hunk began chattering about what he’d managed to put together for dinner, Keith happily letting him get into the intricacies of it and quickly getting lost in the details. As Keith listened he brought a hand back up to his cheek, wishing he’d kept Lance’s compact, the need to get another look at the marking growing into a persistent itch.

 

Lotor’s question about ‘specific stressors’ pressed down on Keith; the connection between the marking having appeared and the presence of Krolia in Keith’s life was undeniable, he was positive about _that_. It felt… weird, knowing that she was affecting him not just internally, but externally as well. It was like Keith, abandoned by his own body, was having his vulnerability bared to the whole universe without his consent and there was nothing he could do about it.

 

Keith began rubbing at the mark, lightly at first, but more vigorously as he and Hunk kept walking, as if he could scrub it away and all of his feelings with it. His steps were brought to a halt by the sudden presence of Hunk in front of him and he realized, belatedly, that the steady thrum of Hunk’s voice had cut out a little while ago, as if Hunk had been waiting for a response from him. Keith raised his eyes and was caught off guard by the worry on Hunk’s face.

 

“Hey,” Hunk said, softly, reaching out to gently grab Keith’s wrist, pulling his hand from his cheek – Keith allowing it, easily, the loss of his fingers leaving aching skin in their wake. “Are you okay?” Hunk’s thumb rubbed soothingly up and down the back of Keith’s hand, skimming over his wrist bone.

 

“Yeah, I’m…,” Keith sighed and ran his other hand through his hair, still damp but no longer dripping wet. “It’s not a big deal,” he amended, giving a half-shrug.

 

Hunk’s lips pressed tightly together and the worry didn’t leave his face, but he didn’t push the matter. He also didn’t let go of Keith’s wrist, though his grip was loose enough that Keith could break if he wanted to. Normally, Keith supposed he would have, but for now, in this moment, he took a certain degree comfort in the action – the slight pressure, the feeling of Hunk’s calluses, the warmth of Hunk’s skin. It was a grounding tether amidst the chaos of the past week and day and hour and Keith, with the relief of man gifted water while dying of dehydration in the desert, allowed himself to indulge in it.

 

In the kitchen, Keith pulled himself up onto the semi-circular counter, seating himself so he was facing the wall with the stove and food-goo dispensers. Hunk gave a final squeeze to Keith’s wrist and pulled away from him, setting about the task of heating up his dinner and presenting it to him with a flourish that made Keith laugh when he was done. Hunk then leaned back against the counter and Keith, plate and utensils in hand, began to eat, a hum of appreciation slipping out of him.

 

“You know,” Keith said, around a bite of food, “it didn’t really feel like the time earlier, but what did Lotor mean about his Altean markings _glowing_?”

 

Hunk looked over at Keith. “That was…” his face screwed up for a moment as he thought, “crazy space lion stuff. Allura’s lit up too and then she ended up getting, like… a power up? It happened while checking out this magical Altean place, Oriande. We just did this kind of recently, actually.” Hunk glanced down at his hands, quickly ticking off fingers and mumbling to himself. Returning his gaze to Keith, he said, “I think it was maybe about a week-ish ago?”

 

“Huh.” Keith took another bite, wondering what the markings had looked like while glowing. "That sounds like it was interesting.”

 

“Yeah! It was super cool! Except, only Lotor and Allura could go to Oriande and while they were gone, the ship malfunctioned and the oxygen was running out.” Hunk rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. “That part wasn’t so cool. But the glowing and the proof that a super, top-secret, magical planet exists? _Awesome_.”

 

A comfortable silence fell over them while Keith finished eating, sprinkled with stories from Hunk about things Keith had missed while he’d been away.

 

Reaching over to set his plate in the sink, Keith asked, “What’s the deal with Lotor, anyway? Doesn’t he have a kingdom to run? Can he really just… keep hanging out here?” Keith pushed himself off of the counter, walking around to the sink and setting about washing his dishes. Hunk turned around, facing Keith across the sink, his hands pressed to the counter, fingers drumming, expression thoughtful.

 

“He _is_ taking care of it,” Hunk began, “sort of. I’m not sure on all the details, but if he’s not with us, then he’s off somewhere in private taking video calls. He said that we’re welcome to listen in on the meetings and Allura usually does, but it got kind of tedious after a while. It’d probably be easier for him if he went back to his castle, but he said he wants to help us with reestablishing the planets that suffered under Zarkon. Something about mending relationships and taking an active part in the healing process.” Hunk shrugged. “Honestly, I’m still a little wary about the guy, but the longer I’m around him the better I feel about him. Like, maybe he really _does_ have the universe’s best interest at heart.”

 

Keith hummed, shutting off the faucet and placing his dishes on the available area for them to dry. “And has Lance been coming around at all?”

 

Hunk pushed himself off from the counter. “ _Well_ ,” he began, the rest of what he was going to say cut off by Keith’s laughter.

 

“That’s a ‘no,’ huh?” Keith asked, amused, a smile still gracing his lips.

 

“Lance is just stubborn,” Hunk said, making his way to the kitchen’s back wall, lined with a few inlaid refrigerators and freezers. Keith dried his hands on his towel, turning his body and following Hunk’s movement with his eyes. “And it’s not like that’s a bad thing.” Hunk stopped in front of one of the freezers, pulling it open. “It makes him really driven and he always accomplishes what he sets out to do, you know?”

 

“Yeah,” Keith said, his smile turning fond, “I know.”

 

“But,” Hunk continued, turning around with a tub of something in his hands and bumping the freezer shut with his hip, “it’s definitely not always a good thing either.” He walked back over to Keith, setting the tub down on the counter near him and grabbing a spoon. “I think he’ll come around eventually, though, like he did with you. It just might take a little longer since the circumstances are so different.” Hunk offered the spoon to Keith and pried the tub open. “We made some ice cream the other day _and_ ," Hunk made his way over to the stove, “I made _you_ some brownies to go with it! They’re still warm, but I could heat them up more for you if you want?”

 

Keith, at the promise of brownies, immediately lit up. “No, no, I’m sure they’re fine how they are.”

 

Hunk set the brownie tray down next to the ice cream and walked back around the counter, grabbing a spoon for himself and two fresh plates, handing one to Keith. “I didn’t want anyone to start eating them before you did since they’re your ‘welcome back’ dessert, but _man_ ,” Hunk began cutting the brownies into squares, giving two of them to Keith, “it was _super hard_ to keep those guys away. Which, I mean, that’s totally fair, but, I swear, there was absolutely no love for you in this kitchen today, Keith; they were totally ready to leave you with nothing but brownie remains.” Hunk shook his head as if he couldn’t believe the cold-heartedness of their teammates and took a bite of his own brownie while Keith served himself ice cream.

 

“I should actually probably let them know they can eat this now,” Hunk said, the statement an obvious afterthought as he glanced between his and Keith’s plates and the kitchen door.

 

“Nah,” Keith said, scooping up a large spoonful of brownie and ice cream, “let them suffer.”

 

Once the two of them were settled in with their desserts, Keith picked up his interrogation, asking, “What about Pidge, then?”

 

“Her opinion on Lotor?”

 

Keith nodded.

 

“Uh,” Hunk took another bite, pulling the spoon from his mouth slowly, taking his time with his answer. “It was definitely bad at first, but I think she’s about where I’m at with him at the moment.” Hunk peered over at Keith, who was taking this information in with a slight nod and furrowed eyebrows. “What do _you_ think about him?”

 

Keith raised his eyes, blinking, mildly startled to have been brought to the forefront of the conversation. “Me?”

 

“Yeah. You had that whole… I don’t wanna be mean and say ‘obsession,’ but I don’t think there’s any other accurate way to put it. So, yeah, what do _you_ think about him? Is his being here going to make you uncomfortable at all?”

 

Keith thought about the fact that Lotor, knowingly or not, had saved his life. About how, as their ally, he certainly appeared to be nothing but polite. About the trust he’d gained from Allura and Shiro. “I’m not entirely sure how I feel about him yet,” Keith said, slowly, “since I haven’t spent much time around him. But I guess, from what I do know, Lotor doesn’t _seem_ bad.”

 

Lance’s loud gasp reached Keith and Hunk before they could even see him. Following fast on its heels, Lance rounded the corner into the kitchen, practically skidding around the doorframe with an arm held out, a finger pointing in Keith’s and Hunk’s direction accusingly.

 

“We were totally just about to go get you guys for the brownies,” Hunk said, his hands raised in surrender.

 

“Wh-?” Lance began, his eyes dropping to the evidence laid out in front of them. “Wow, okay, I see how it is.” Lance placed his hands on his hips, striding the rest of the way into the room and shaking his head like he was deeply disappointed in them. “I was coming to see if you guys were ready for dessert yet, and then I hear that Keith is on apparently Lotor’s side and now you, Hunk, my best friend in the whole universe have betrayed me, too.” Lance sighed, deeply, stopping at the edge of the counter they were using. “Please,” Lance said, his tone unfathomably weary. “Pass me the brownies.”

 

As soon as Lance began tearing into his own brownie, he started a Lotor-themed tirade, saying, “I just can’t believe it! Keith, you were so against Lotor to begin with, you _can’t_ turn on me now. I thought you were gonna be my back-up here.”

 

“I mean,” Keith dragged his spoon around his plate, spreading the melted remains of his ice cream and avoiding Lance’s gaze as well as the tentative state of his sense of conviction, “he’s been pretty reliable, Lance.” The words left his mouth sounding to his own ears like little more than one half of the argument going on in the background of his head; an undetectable assessment that started itself back up every time he saw or heard something about Lotor.

 

“But he was a total dick!” Lance exclaimed in retaliation, waving his spoon around for emphasis.

 

“Yeah, that’s true.” Keith set his plate down, sighing. Their first run-ins with Lotor had definitely been unpleasant.

 

“See!”

 

“Allura and Shiro trust him though and, like I said, he’s been reliable.” In a moment of realization, Keith recalled his experience with the Blade of Marmora and added, “Besides, I don’t think his first attack was actually malicious. Proving yourself is pretty important to the Galra.”

 

“So, what?” Hunk asked. “You think he was trying to see if we were worth allying himself with?”

 

“Yeah.” Keith said, becoming more certain of what he was suggesting with each passing second. “And we failed. _Miserably_.” Keith scowled, embarrassment and shame welling up inside of him. Suddenly a hand was clapped onto his shoulder. He looked up, meeting Lance’s eyes.

 

“It was still a dick move,” Lance said. Keith snorted and Lance continued with a roll of his eyes, “Galra must be the worst at making friends. Like, ‘hey, you seem like you might be cool, random stranger I’ve heard things about, fucking _fight_ me.’ Honestly, what kind of logic _is_ that?”

“Lance,” Hunk said, his eyebrows raised. “Buddy.”

 

Lance narrowed his eyes at Hunk suspiciously. “I don’t like that tone your using and the implication that I’m about to get roasted.”

 

“You literally wanted to fight Keith for _years_ because of how cool he was.”

 

“Excuse you!” Lance’s plate clattered to the counter and he pressed a hand to his chest as if he’d been grievously offended. “Those two situations are completely different! And I have wonderful social skills!” Hunk started laughing, causing Lance to gape at him. He then turned to Keith, whispering, “The _nerve_ …” Gathering up his plate, he moved to the sink to wash it, playfully bumping Hunk with his hip.

 

“No, but, seriously,” Hunk said once he’d collected himself. “Maybe you should give Lotor a chance. Especially if Keith can after everything that happened.”

 

Lance made a noncommittal noise and continued his scrubbing.

 

Hunk exchanged a glance with Keith, then, seeming to light up with an idea, he turned back to Lance. Tone enticing, he said, “If you’re nice to him, he might tell you his hair care secrets.”

 

Lance paused. With a long, drawn out groan, he turned the water off and set his dishes aside to dry. When he looked at Hunk it was with a pout and the words, “I do want those secrets.”

 

“I know you do.”

 

“ _Fine_.” Lance dried his hands on his pants, looking resigned. “I’ll play nice with the stupid prince.”

 

“There we go!” Hunk smiled at him.

 

“Yeah, well.” Lance held out his arms and Hunk swept him up in a tight hug. A bit winded Lance said, “I’m gonna start in on my nighttime routine. I’ll work on not being mean to Lotor tomorrow.” He was returned to his feet, giving Hunk one last squeeze before he pulled away. “Night, handsome,” he said to Hunk, flashing him a wink.

 

“Good night, Lance.”

 

Lance slipped past Hunk. “Night, Keith.”

 

“Night.”

 

Lance eyed Keith for a moment, then, raising one eyebrow, partially opened his arms, a tentative suggestion. Keith glanced between Lance’s waiting arms and his face, debating whether or not he really wanted a ‘good night’ hug before ultimately stepping into the embrace.

 

“By the way,” Lance whispered into his ear, the words practically nothing more than a breath of air. “You doing all right?” Lance bumped their temples together and their cheeks brushed. Keith didn’t have to ask to know that he was talking about the marking that had appeared. Instead of answering, Keith just squeezed around Lance’s middle tighter, enjoying the feeling of a warm body and the safety and care inherent in being held in one of his friends’ arms.

 

Lance seemed to get the message. He squeezed Keith back just as tight.

 

When Keith went to bed, he had trouble falling asleep, which – he reflected as he laid in the dark, his eyes closed, and his mind unforgivingly active – probably wasn’t surprising given his sugar intake beforehand, the nap he’d had, and the pitiful average amount of sleep he’d been getting lately. He eventually passed out, with an excessive amount of tossing and turning, but _staying_ asleep also proved to be a problem. By the fourth time Keith had slipped from the edges of a shallow slumber into consciousness, he decided he was through and, fed up, he wrenched out himself of bed, his movements holding the violence of annoyance. He grabbed his knife automatically and paused.

 

It felt nice in his hand; comfortable – a familiar weight that now held the reminder of unfamiliar obligations. He slipped the knife back under his pillow and left his room, more subdued.

 

Keith slunk through the halls, dragging a hand through his hair, rubbing at his eyes, a yawn rising up and forcing its way out of his mouth. His bare feet were practically silent, shivers occasionally running through him as they made contact with the chilly tile of the floor. He wished he hadn’t forgotten his slippers.

 

He wasn’t sure what he was planning to do, walking towards the training room in pajamas and weaponless; all he knew was that he had to get out of his bedroom and the training room was the most natural option, the memory of numerous sleepless nights guiding his limbs – overlapping with this night, pushing him back into the past and making it almost possible to forget that this place wasn’t his home right now.

 

Keith supposed if this was before everything that went down, he would have redirected his path when the uselessness of going to the training room caught up with him, having done so many times before when he’d felt the shackles of exhaustion still heavy in his body despite his inability to sleep. He would have gone to Red instead, curling up inside of her in the pilot seat, breathing steadily and easily as she plied him with waves of love and affection until he passed out.

 

Keith stopped, the muffled sounds of fighting making its way over to him from the direction of the training room, pulling him out of his thoughts. As he came back to himself, he noticed that he’d been scratching his cheek and, with a wince, dropped his hand to his side, his skin stinging and faint worry about this developing into an unconscious habit riding on the pulses of pain. He crept towards the training room, hesitating for a moment, then touched the pad to open the door.

 

It slid open with a soft hiss, drowned out by the clash of weapons.

 

In the room, currently fighting multiple of the training robots at once, was Lotor. Keith almost turned on his heal and walked away but Lotor’s eyes flicked over to him before he could, possibly drawn by the movement of the door, and Keith lost his chance to leave subtly. The option of a stealthy escape effectively thrown out of the metaphorical window, Keith decided that he may as well enter the room since it’d been his destination in the first place and he wasn’t quite sure where else to go – the idea of sitting in the dark in the living room or kitchen sounding too pitiful. He found himself a place to sit, up against a wall and far from the action, as Lotor continued to fight.

 

Keith got himself settled just in time to see Lotor slice off the head of the final robot, his body moving with a powerful, graceful fluidity. He had to fight the urge whistle lowly or to start applauding, able to truly appreciate Lotor’s skill now that he wasn’t an enemy.

 

“Hello, Keith,” Lotor said, falling out of his fighting stance, body noticeably relaxing. He sheathed his sword, brushing back hair that had fallen over his shoulders. His skin was purple again, but despite that Keith’s eyes were drawn to where he knew Lotor’s Altean markings were hidden.

 

“Hi,” Keith said, smiling a little – aiming for polite, though he wouldn’t have been surprised if he just came off as vaguely uncomfortable.

 

Lotor strode over to him, stopping a couple feet away, like he didn’t want to push Keith’s boundaries. It reminded Keith of how he’d dropped his hand earlier when he’d realized Keith hadn’t wanted him to touch him. “You’re awake at an odd time, aren’t you? Unless,” Lotor’s eyebrows furrowed, “I’ve lost track?”

 

“No,” Keith replied, “I shouldn’t be up right now, everyone else is still asleep.” He gave a half-hearted shrug. “I just kept waking up.” He was staring up at Lotor, wondering if he should stand too, wondering if he ought to leave, but then Lotor was lowering himself to the ground, settling in like he expected to have a nice chat with Keith.

 

Lotor crossed his legs, folding his hands in his lap. “You came here to train then?”

 

“I mean… it’s what I usually do when I can’t sleep, I guess.” Keith began to fiddle with his fingers, not entirely okay with this sudden ‘chatting with Lotor’ development.

 

Lotor hummed, his eyes trailing over Keith’s arms. Keith glanced down and realized, belatedly, that his pajama shirt had short sleeves, leaving the bruises decorating his arms on display. Keith crossed his arms, hiding them as best he could, and pointedly looked away from Lotor.

 

“You came to the castle to rest, didn’t you?” Lotor asked, casually.

 

Keith, not quite understanding where he was going with this line of questioning, nodded.

 

“In that case you must be overworked. Is coming to train really the best idea?”

 

Keith frowned, a flash of annoyance running through him. “I _told_ you. It’s because I can’t sleep.” He met Lotor’s gaze with a glare, indignant at a stranger having the audacity to try to tell him what to do. “Training helps me take my mind off things.”

 

“Ah, I see.” Lotor stared steadily back at Keith, his expression calm, practically flippant with an apparent lack of investment in their current conversation; Keith couldn’t tell if it was real or feigned. “A temporary reprieve then,” he continued. “Both harmful to your overworked body _and_ transient, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

 

Keith, his irritation growing, snapped, “Then what are _you_ doing?”

 

Lotor paused and for a moment Keith felt the righteous glow of calling out a hypocrite. “Destressing, I supposed.” Lotor shifted, leaning back on his hands. “Also, my sleep schedule isn’t matched up with the castle so, for me, this is actually a reasonable time to be awake.” He sighed, faintly. “It’s easier for me to maintain the circadian rhythm of my home planet, given all the calls I have to take.”

 

Keith, at this point, could feel his argument turning a bit petulant, but he persisted. “That’s exactly what I would be doing, though: destressing.”

 

Lotor raised an eyebrow. “I believe there’s a difference between destressing and attempting to take your mind off of something. The second matter tends to be personal and there’s no way to actually fight yourself out of it. You may feel at ease for a while, but whatever is troubling you will still be waiting for you after.”

 

And to that, Keith was unable to think of a response. It was true that training at the Blade of Marmora to escape the emotional turmoil he was experiencing as a result of his mother hadn’t helped and it was also true that persisting in doing so to the point of utter exhaustion was the whole reason he was back at the Castle of Lions in the first place.

 

After a moment Lotor seemed to realize that Keith was stumped as to how to continue to argue the matter and he picked back up with a change in subject. “You were the black paladin, weren’t you?”

 

Keith wrinkled his nose, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Yeah, that wasn’t ever meant to be permanent though. I mean, obviously. I didn’t… do so well.” He grimaced, then shook his head. “I was just filling in for Shiro.”

 

“And you left because they came back?”

 

Keith eyed Lotor warily. “Why do you care?”

 

“Everyone was quite… excited when they heard you were coming to visit. They seem to care for you very deeply.”

 

Keith flushed. “Yeah, that’s, um, that’s just kind of how they are.”

 

“I’ve noticed.”

 

The reminder of the care and love inherent in the Voltron team, basically a defining factor of it, clashed with the attitude the Blade of Marmora had been attempting to instill in him and, before he could think better of it, Keith found himself asking, “Which do you think is better? The focus on bonds that everyone here has or something like the Blade of Marmora, where the focus is on the mission over individuals?” The questions came out of Keith in a rush. Up until he was voicing them, he hadn’t realized how much the discrepancy in attitudes had been plaguing him. Now that it was out in the open, he was desperate for a second opinion, unsure himself which attitude he should emulate though he knew which one he desired – the want within him begging to be integrated into the Voltron team, an ache he’d been seeking to repress.

 

“Personally, I’m familiar with the Blade of Marmora’s way of doing things,” Lotor said, though his expression seemed conflicted. “The way you all behave here is entirely new to me. I’m not much one for forming intimate connections with others.”

 

Keith tilted his head, confusion washing over him. “But, isn’t that what you’ve been doing with Allura? You two seem like you’ve gotten awfully close.”

 

“I… huh.” Lotor’s expression went blank. “Is that… You think so?”

 

Keith let out a short laugh, incredulous. “Dude. Are you asking _me_ if you and Allura are friends? Isn’t that something _you_ should know?”

 

Lotor shot Keith an unamused glance. “I told you. I’m not familiar with the way this works.”

 

“Okay, sorry,” Keith said, raising his hands in surrender. “I didn’t- Well, I _did_ mean to laugh at you. But I didn’t mean to, like, insult you.” Keith rubbed at the back of his neck. “Anyway, uh, yeah. I’d say you two are friends. And, I’m pretty sure if you told Allura that you hadn’t realized it, she’d be pretty sad.”

 

Lotor appeared to be considering what Keith had said. Keith supposed he must have been thinking back to interactions with Allura and noticing a pattern he’d been blind to before. Lotor took a deep breath and slowly shaking his head, said, “The attitude here is strangely contagious, isn’t it.”

 

Keith was now laughing in earnest, well aware of how his own loner status had quickly been demolished in the face of the familial bond that seemed to permeate the very air of the castle. “Honestly, there’s no use even trying to fight it.”

 

Lotor, looking distinctly amused, rose to his feet. “Well, I’m going to get back to what I was doing. You’re welcome to stay and watch if you’d like.”

 

Keith considered leaving – getting up, walking back to his room, probably, laying in the dark, alone with his thoughts again. He considered leaving, but decided he’d rather stick around. He wrapped his arms tightly around his knees, legs pressed up to his chest, a feeling of security welling up in him, keeping everything else at bay. He breathed in deeply, his nerves settling, and took Lotor up on his offer to watch the graceful movements of his fight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a few things:
> 
> 1\. Sorry I vanished for June, hopefully that doesn’t happen again.
> 
> 2\. A quick gender guide that probably should have been in the notes for the first chapter: Keith and Hunk: trans boys, Lance nb (with no preference between he/him and they/them), Pidge: trans girl, Shiro: nb (only goes by they/them), Allura: nb (no preference between she/her and they/them), Lotor: nb (uses he/him because it makes his life easier, but doesn’t actually have a preference). (Also if your curious about why I have Keith in sports bras instead of a binder it's because these kids are way too active and constantly on-call to go into action, so I figure Keith knows how to be smart and safe with his body).
> 
> 3\. As of season 6, canon Lotor has nothing to do with my Lotor. I’m still going to be treating him like a redeemable character and will be ignoring the nastier developments that happened with him.
> 
> 4\. I s2g I’m not making Keith’s dad a bad guy. I am changing the details of his situation from what we saw in season 6 though. I have plans to reveal the specifics of what went down, somehow, but (being as vague as possible) I swear it was all for Keith.
> 
> 5\. This fic is going to get (at least) one more chapter and, as you’ve probably noticed, I did decide to make it part of a series.

Keith figured he must have fallen asleep because one second, he was watching Lotor and the next, he was being gently shaken awake. He jolted into consciousness and the hand on his shoulder – Allura’s, he noticed somewhere in his sleep-idled brain – was pulled away while Allura, herself, leaned back, out of his space.

 

“Hey,” Allura said, softly. She was kneeling in front of him, her thick, curly hair cascading around her, so long the ends of it nearly brushed the floor. Keith could see Lotor behind her, far enough away to give them – and possibly himself, as he appeared to be taking a call – privacy.

 

“Hi?” Keith replied, the word coming out like a question as he rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up some. His neck and back ached, definitely a side effect of falling asleep sitting up, and he groaned.

 

Allura was peering at him with a strange expression on her face. When she asked, “Are you okay?” Keith remembered his bruises and felt panic like a bucket of cold water, shocking him into wakefulness as he wrenched his knees up to his chest, hiding his arms behind them.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just-” he shook his head, tried to compose himself, his words rushing out of his mouth too fast. “I had a late-night walk. I must have passed out.”

 

Allura stared straight into his eyes for a few moments before nodding her head slowly. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

 

“I’m sure.”

 

“Well then,” Allura’s expression didn’t relax completely, but the tension dropped out of the air as she pushed onto a new subject, “I was looking for you.”

 

“Oh. Sorry.”

 

“It’s fine,” Allura assured him, smiling. “I wasn’t looking for long. This was only my second stop. I was afraid I’d find you training.” She glanced back at Lotor and when her attention returned to Keith, she was practically beaming. “Lotor told me you two spent some time together?”

 

Keith had a feeling that Allura may have been a bit _too_ excited about that fact. “Yeah,” he said, hesitantly.

 

“Wonderful!” Allura clapped her hands together, her smile – if it was even possible – brightening further and her ears perking up. “You know, I actually thought you both would get along nicely.” Her eyes took on a far-away look, her expression determined as she continued, murmuring, “This is good, very good. If you’re warming up to him the others are bound to, too.”

 

Keith was confused for a moment, but it didn’t take him long to realize that Allura thought he and Lotor were friends now. He opened his mouth, a protest on the tip of his tongue, but in the face of her elation at the thought of Lotor managing to bond with more of the people she cared about, anything he may have said to correct her died in his throat. Instead, in an attempt to pull her back to the subject at hand, he said, “What did you need me for?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You said you were looking for me?”

 

“Right.” Allura’s smile slipped into something tentative and fond. “I hope this won’t seem presumptuous of me, but when I heard you were in need of relaxation it brought to mind one of the planets we were intending to negotiate with, Blencathra. They’re a renowned resort planet, so I got in touch with them immediately and have been sorting out the details of our trip ever since.”

 

“So, while you guys are doing business I’m supposed to relax at a spa?” Keith asked, frowning. He appreciated that Allura cared, but he wasn’t really a fan of the idea of sitting back and doing nothing while everyone else was doing something important.

 

“No, no,” Allura said, shaking her head. “While it was being occupied, Blencathra retained its status as a resort planet so it hasn’t suffered the ill effects that other planets have. All we’re here to do is negotiate. Only Lotor, Shiro, and I are really needed for the business aspect of the trip. The rest of you are _all_ being encouraged to take advantage of their services while we’re there, not just you.” She reached out slowly, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder, squeezing affectionately. “I think this trip will do us all some good.”

 

Keith nodded and placed his hand over top of Allura’s, squeezing back as he said, “Okay.” He smiled. “I can live with that, then. Thanks, Allura. When is this happening?”

 

“After breakfast.” She jolted slightly, as if suddenly remembering something incredibly important and continued with, “Which is ready by the way, Hunk wanted me to tell you. We’ve already reached the planet, we’re just waiting for our guide to get here and then we’ll take the lions down.”

 

“Wow.” Keith raised his eyebrows. “Pretty short notice, huh?”

 

Allura rose to her feet. “They were remarkably understanding. And _I_ ,” she said, placing her hands on her hips, “was remarkably persuasive.” Keith gave her a short, soft round of applause and Allura laughed. “Alright, well, I’ll be waiting in the main room for our guide to contact us. You and Lotor might want to go get breakfast now. They could call any moment.” Keith met her suggestion with a nod of acknowledgement and then she was sweeping out of the room, her hand brushing Lotor’s arm, their fingers catching for an instant, as she walked past him and through the training room door.

 

The second the door slid shut, Keith shot Lotor a look. Lotor – his data pad hanging from his fingertips, the screen blank, the call he’d been taking evidently wrapped up – was already staring right back at him.

 

A second passed and then Keith, easing his way into the topic, said, “I think Allura thinks we’re friends.”

 

“Oh?” Lotor replied, infuriatingly noncommittal, his head tilting a bit to the side, his long hair cascading with it.

 

“She seemed really excited about it,” Keith said, trying, again, to impart the gravity of the situation.

 

Lotor raised an eyebrow. “Does this bother you?”

 

Keith sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “No, aside from the fact that we aren’t friends and she’s probably going to be disappointed when she finds that out.” He dropped his forehead to his knees, groaning. “Where did she even get the confidence in my ability to ever be able to make a friend overnight? What kind of vibes have I accidentally been giving off? I can’t live up to this image.”

 

“Maybe it was _me_ she was placing her faith in,” Lotor suggested.

 

Keith raised his head, fixing Lotor with an unimpressed stare, and scoffed. “Yeah, no. You don’t get to play yourself off as the paragon of friendship when you didn’t even know you were friends with Allura until _I_ said something.”

 

They returned to just staring at each other for a moment, both of them completely straight-faced, until Keith suddenly burst into laughter, the ridiculousness of their playful argument slamming into him. Lotor quickly followed suit – his own laughter much more controlled than Keith’s, more of a faintly amused chuckle than anything else.

 

As he fought to stop laughing, Keith said, “This doesn’t make what I said any less true.”

 

Lotor shook his head. “Perhaps,” he conceded, a smile on his lips, “I was a bit arrogant.”

 

Keith hummed; his chest felt light, pleasant, the laughter having left a faint glow in its wake. “At least you can admit it.” He briefly squeezed his arms around his legs and then, with a deep breath, he rose to his feet. “I’m gonna get going. I have to change before I can eat.”

 

Lotor took a few steps backwards, closer to the door, and placed his hand onto the pad to open it. “Allow me to come with you? I believe the dining area is in the direction of everyone’s rooms.”

 

“Uh,” Keith shrugged, “yeah, sure, I don’t mind.”

 

The walk through the halls was quiet. Lotor, apparently, wasn’t usually quite as chatty as he’d been when Keith had stumbled into the training room and Keith… Keith wasn’t used to being the one to initiate small talk. Upon realizing that it would be up to him to do so, he was faced with the problem that he wasn’t actually sure how to do it.

 

Now, Keith wasn’t _opposed_ to walking in silence; if anything, he was used to it.

 

Any time his father had been out of the house – a common occurrence while they’d been living together – the rooms would be filled with silence; the entire time Keith had been living alone in that shack in the middle of the desert, every day had been _drenched_ in silence; and while he was with the Blade of Marmora, silence was more common than casual chatter – the result of nobody feeling the need or desire to get to close to people that they knew they could lose at any moment.

 

So, Keith was used to silence – the kind of silence that was broken only by the subtle sounds of life around him and Keith’s own voice when he started talking to himself; the kind of silence that crept into his ears and made itself at home; the kind of silence that lived in his body, parasitic, every inhale and exhale keeping him aware of the quiet that was relentlessly pressing down on him from every side.

 

Keith was used to silence, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Throw in how badly Allura seemed to want Lotor to make friends with him and everyone else, and Keith was pretty anxious to fill the silence that was stretching between them.

 

Keith, walking a bit ahead of Lotor, gave a half-glance behind him as he said a drawn out, “So…,” the word marking the moment he officially decided to dive straight into acting on his feeling that he should talk to Lotor. It also marked the moment he began feeling regret, an emotion justified as he continued with, “How’s running an empire?” He cringed around the tail end of the question, shaking his head and speeding up his steps a bit more, as if he could outpace his embarrassment.

 

Lotor caught up with Keith easily, his long legs making the task a simple one, and glanced over at Keith with a slight smile curving up the corners of his lips. “Difficult,” he answered, amusement curling its way around the word. A moment passed and then Lotor was sighing. He shook his head, his eyes leaving Keith to stare straight ahead of him, his mouth slipping into a frown. “Honestly, though, many of the higher ranking Galra aren’t happy with me. I expected this sort of resistance, of course. But it’s still disappointing.” His voice had tapered off into a faint murmur, though Keith had no trouble hearing him, and then he was giving himself a quick shake and turning back to Keith with a pleasant smile. “How was your nap? Rejuvenating, I hope?”

 

Keith was a bit thrown by the sudden shift in topic, but after a second, he decided to just go with it, eyeing Lotor curiously as he said, “I don’t know about all that, but I guess I feel rested, yeah.”

 

“That’s good.” Lotor looked him over and nodded. “You do look significantly less troubled, at least.”

 

Keith pressed his lips together, shifting his gaze forwards. He recognized the area they were in and knew they should be coming up on his room soon. “When do _you_ sleep, anyway? You mentioned that your schedule is different than ours.”

 

“It’s not that far off. I go to sleep and wake up a few hours earlier than you all do.”

 

“And you haven’t eaten yet?” Keith’s eyebrows furrowed.

 

“No, I haven’t. Why?”

 

Keith came to a stop in front of his door, Lotor stopping with him. Keith pressed his hand to the pad to open the door, then turned back towards Lotor. As he stepped backwards into his room he gave Lotor a pointed look. “I was just thinking, you’ve been awake for hours, training on an empty stomach; I guess I’m not the only one that’s not taking the best care of myself, is all.” As the door closed, Keith had time to see Lotor’s expression shift into one of surprise before their view of each other was cut off.

 

With a smug smile and a shake of his head, Keith faced his room to set about gathering up his clothes, his stomach grumbling loudly at the reminder of food.

 

Keith got ready for the day quickly, finishing up by pulling his hair into a ponytail as he made his way towards the dining area.

 

As he entered the room he heard Coran saying, “Why, if it’s instruction in how to work the kitchen you want, I’d be happy to help you!” Keith could see Coran standing over Hunk and Lotor where they were seated, looking like he’d invited himself to the edge of an ongoing conversation. Pride entering his voice as he smoothed his moustache, he said, “I actually taught Hunk everything he knows!”

 

Hunk promptly began choking on his waffle, one hand pounding on his chest while his other hand flailed about wildly, and he desperately shook his head at Lotor. “ _No_!” He exclaimed loudly when he finally managed to obtain his voice again. “No, no! No!” Lotor was watching Hunk with wide eyes as Lance, sitting across from Hunk, laughed loudly and Pidge, at Hunk’s other side and looking half dead, glared down at her breakfast as if by staring at it with enough evil intentions everybody would pick up on how much she wanted then to quiet down.

 

“No?” Coran asked, visibly deflating.

 

With one last, emphatically mouthed, “No,” to Lotor, Hunk turned to Coran, smiling pleasantly. “I just mean, I’m not too busy or anything. I can teach him how to work the kitchen, or,” he turned back to Lotor, “at least how to warm up leftovers, if that’s more his speed?”

 

Lotor, glancing between Hunk and Coran, nodded warily. “Yes, that might be best.”

 

“Well, if that’s really what you want...” Coran took a step back from them and his eyes landed on Keith. “Keith!” he exclaimed, any dejection slipping from his features to make way for a warm smile and twinkling eyes. “Good morning. I hope you had a pleasant rest?”

 

“Hey,” Keith replied, taking a seat next to Lance and across from Lotor, who had taken on the sheepish expression and stiff posture of a kid that had been caught doing something they shouldn’t have been doing. “I’m definitely feeling a lot better this morning.”

 

“Man,” Lance said, peering at Keith, “you _look_ way better, too. That’s so not fair.” He crossed his arms, pouting. “It takes me days to recover from normal looking bags and dark circles and you get to recover from practically looking like a racoon in a day? Where’s the justice in that.”

 

“Thanks?” Keith said, mostly focused on grabbing the platter stacked high with waffles and the container of syrup and serving himself on the plate that had been set out for him. As he heavily drizzled syrup on his waffles he glanced at Lotor. “You want to learn how to use the kitchen?”

 

Lotor cleared his throat. “I hadn’t viewed it as a priority, but what you said earlier was true; I _have_ been neglecting my wellbeing. I figured it was about time I asked.”

 

Lance leaned in, pushing his plate aside, his shoulder bumping into Keith’s. Raising an eyebrow at Lotor, he asked, “Have you been secretly starving without Hunk or something?”

 

Hunk, horror falling over his expression at the very thought, stared at Lotor intensely as he asked, “ _Have_ you?”

 

Smirking, Keith shook his head solemnly, saying in his best approximation of a chiding tone, “I found him in the training room this morning. Apparently, he’d been up for hours, fighting on an empty stomach.”

 

Lance threw his arm over Keith’s shoulders, saying, “Sounds like something _you’d_ do.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes and shrugged Lance’s arm off, digging into his breakfast rather than bothering to respond.

 

Meanwhile, Hunk’s ‘mother hen’ mode had been activated. He gasped loudly, saying, “That’s terrible!” and began stabbing a fork into waffles and depositing them onto Lotor’s plate, insisting that he eat more and promising to teach him about the kitchen as soon as possible, while Lotor sat frozen under the wave of concern, powerless to stop it and the steadily growing stack of waffles on his plate.

 

“By the way,” Lance said to Lotor, when Hunk had finished fussing and Lotor’s plate was officially overly full, “it’s totally understandable that you don’t know how to use the kitchen. I’m actually banned from there because of how badly I don’t know how to use it.” He laughed faintly. “Hunk is just, like, a super-genius and a kitchen-whisperer,” as he threw out the praise, Lance made a heart with his hands at Hunk and Hunk, in response, placed a hand to his chest and faked a swoon. “He’s the only one who actually knows what he’s doing in there, to be honest.” They all shot Coran a sideways look as the last part quietly left Lance’s mouth, but he appeared to be oblivious, chattering away at a Pidge, who had a scowl on her face and was rubbing her temples.

 

Once they were certain a crisis had been avoided, they returned their attention to Lance. Lotor, in particular, was looking at him rather intently.

 

“Are you attempting to reassure me?” Lotor asked, his words wrapped in intrigue.

 

Lance, looking like a deer in headlights, exclaimed, “Wha-no! No! I’m just,” he gestured desperately towards Hunk, “complimenting Hunk. _Obviously_.”

 

Keith snorted. “Yeah, obviously.”

 

Lance shoved lightly at Keith’s shoulder, grumbling, “Don’t _even_ with me right now.” He huffed out a sigh, looking back at Lotor. “Okay, yeah, maybe I am. Because apparently, you’ve never learned that there’s nothing wrong with asking for help if you need it. About _anything_. Even if it feels stupid or unimportant.”

 

As Lance spoke, Lotor settled his chin on his interlaced fingers, watching him with a thoughtful expression on his face. A smile pulling at his lips, he said, “You’re rather charming when you aren’t attempting to be antagonistic.”

 

Lance made a choking noise and Keith could clearly see the deep red of his blush despite the brown of his skin. Jolting to his feet while pointing a finger in Lotor’s direction, Lance cried, “Joke’s on you buddy, that’s part of my charm!” He then promptly turned on his heal, high-tailing it out of the room.

 

Once the door he’d left through hissed shut behind him, Pidge turned to Lotor, blearily, giving him a thumbs up and said, “Congrats, Lotor. You broke him.”

 

“Um,” Lotor began, frowning, “did I say something wrong?”

 

Hunk laughed. “Nah, man. Flattery is just his weak spot.”

 

Breakfast finished up rather quickly after that, Allura announcing over the PA system that their guide had contacted her and that they were free to land. Lotor’s pile of waffles hardly had a dent in it so Hunk put them away for later after asking, many times, if Lotor was sure he didn’t want them to go. Keith, on the other hand, happily accepted his fate of sticky fingers to grab the last waffle from his own plate before dropping his dishes in the sink.

 

As he was licking syrup off of his fingers in the hanger, Allura addressed the group saying, “We’ve been given special permission to land on the planet. The Blencathrans typically retrieve visitors via a bus from the landing area off-planet, but I’ve convinced them to allow us to land three of our lions in case of an emergency. I’ve been assured all of our needs can and will be met, so we don’t have to pack anything. We _will_ be staying for roughly a movement though, so, Keith, Hunk, Pidge your hormones will be brought along by Coran, you don’t need to worry about that. Any questions?” She looked over the seven of them and when no one said anything, she continued, “Alright. What we need to do right now then is sort out who is traveling with who.”

 

Coran would be in charge of getting the castle to the landing area, taking one of the buses from there to the terminal closest to their destination where he would then be picked up by a different guide. Shiro, Allura, and Lance would be the ones taking their lions down. These decisions were announced rapid-fire from Allura, who finished with, “So, Keith, why don’t you pick who you’d like to go with first?”

 

Honestly, Keith's first instinct was to choose Lance. It had a lot less to do with Lance himself, though, than it did with the fact that Lance was currently Red’s pilot. For Keith, the idea of riding in Red again was almost painfully tempting, like an itch he desperately needed to scratch. He could feel the want like a tingling of anticipation in his fingertips, his hands dying to wrap around her controls. He could feel it in the aching beat of his heart, in that empty place in his mind – blank now that her presence had left him.

 

The only thing that stopped Keith was the knowledge that he would be a passenger. The thought of being surrounded by her without any of their old connection singing through his body brought out an echo of the pain that had kept him from going to her the night before.

 

Ruling Lance out, he then considered asking to go with Allura. She and Blue felt like a safe option. They didn't activate an imitation of Keith's fight or flight response and they didn't cause pangs of sorrow in his chest or fill his stomach with the flutterings of discomfort. He was opening his mouth, taking a breath in to speak, his decision on the tip of his tongue, when a thought – a tickle at the back of his mind – pulled him up short: when had Allura become the safe option over Shiro?

 

Keith looked up, everyone watching him as the seconds passed, and caught Shiro's eyes. He could feel it, now that he was aware of it; a tension between them that set Keith’s teeth on edge and made his insides shudder – a need to avoid Shiro that he’d probably been obeying since he and Shiro had started disagreeing about which of them should be piloting the black lion.

 

His decision to go with Allura suddenly felt a lot like running away – nothing more than another temporary reprieve. Transient, like Lotor had said, leaving Keith no further along in resolving his issues with either Shiro _or_ Red.

 

Keith, decidedly, wasn't ready to face Red – the same way he definitely wasn't ready to face Krolia. At this moment, however, he desperately wanted to begin to fix the rift that he could tell had formed between himself and Shiro.

 

Keith cleared his throat, his voice surprising him with how steady it was in spite of his nerves as he said, “I’ll go with Shiro.”

 

Pidge ended up with Allura and –after Allura practically insisted on Lotor going with Lance, her eyes sparking with her obvious, albeit unrealistic, intentions of having Lotor bond with more of her friends during the short flight down to the planet – both Lotor and Hunk ended up with Lance.

 

Keith knew the trip to the planet wasn’t going to last very long so, once Shiro had taken off, he wasted no time. An, “I’m sorry,” fell from his lips, his hands tightly grasping onto the head of Shiro’s chair.

 

“Sorry?” Shiro asked, shooting a quick glance at Keith over their shoulder, one of their hands moving to turn off the microphone in their helmet. “What for?”

 

“I basically-no. I _did_ force you to take back your position as the black paladin.” Keith took a deep, steadying breath. “I still think the team is better with you, but I shouldn’t have done what I did, running off with the Blade of Marmora like that when you all needed me. I should have waited longer, tried harder to talk you into trying to pilot Black. What I did wasn’t fair to you _or_ the team.”

 

“Keith, you’ve already apologized about this.”

 

“I know, but… I really mean it this time.”

 

Shiro chuckled. Their tone teasing as they said, “And you didn’t the last time?”

 

Keith grimaced, shame washing over him. “Not like I do now. Mostly I was just glad to finally be off the hook since Black ended up responding to you.” Keith rubbed self-consciously at his bicep, his voice lowering as he muttered, “No more trying to live up to something that I wasn’t cut out for.”

 

“Hey,” Shiro scolded gently, “you were a perfectly good leader.”

 

Keith scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

 

“Seriously!”

 

Keith pressed his lips together, staring at his feet. “Shiro?” His voice came out small and hesitant, like the fate of the world – or _his_ world, anyway – depended on how delicately he said what he had to say next. “I’m also sorry that I’ve kind of been avoiding you.” He licked his lips, a truth that he hadn’t even fully realized was weighing on him suddenly pouring from his mouth as he said, “I’ve been afraid that I must have disappointed you.”

 

Shiro stood, causing Keith to look up, startled until he realized that they had landed, the view from Black’s window showing a clearing filled with wildflowers. Shiro walked around their seat to Keith, setting on hand on his shoulder and ruffling his hair affectionately with the other. “You didn’t.”

 

Keith frowned up at him. “But-”

 

“You didn’t disappoint me,” Shiro repeated, their words firm. “Honestly, I was probably being too tough on you. I knew you just wanted things to go back to normal.” Shiro smiled, sadly, sounding remorseful as they said, “I think you could have made a great leader, but I also knew that you weren’t comfortable with that role and,” they grimaced, “I’m sure all those recruitment activities we started up didn’t help matters.”

 

Keith couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I saw some of what you guys did after I left and that was…” He shook his head. “I’m glad I missed it.”

 

Shiro shuddered. “It escalated quickly. But,” they squeezed Keith’s shoulder, “I’m talking about _before_ you left. Even when the publicity wasn’t nearly as big as it got, I know you weren’t a fan. It was just one more reason for you to try to get away.” Shiro pulled their hands back to themself, dragging one of them through their hair. “Once I got back, I should have been more supportive than I was; worked with you more, eased you into the idea of permanent leadership. I let the stress of the situation get the better of me and didn’t think about your well-being.”

 

Keith opened his mouth, ready to object, but Shiro raised a hand, motioning for him to stop before he could even start.

 

“Honestly,” Shiro said, their eyes going a bit unfocused, “ever since I got back I… I haven’t-” They were cut off by a sharp intake of breath as they clasped a hand to their head, their face twisting up with pain.

 

“Shiro!?” Keith cried, reaching out to steady Shiro as they stumbled back.

 

A tremor violently wracked their body and then, just as suddenly as it had started, Shiro relaxed. They took a deep breath, straightening themself out, dragging a hand down their face. Their voice strained, they said, “I’m fine.”

 

Worry flooding through him, Keith said, “I don’t think so. What _was_ that?”

 

“A headache.”

 

“A headache?” Keith looked at them, disbelief bleeding into his tone.

 

“Yes. A headache. We’ve all been under a lot of stress. Me getting headaches isn’t that strange.”

 

Keith and Shiro stared at each other, their gazes challenging. Keith ended up being the first to look away and, though he wasn’t happy about it, he murmured a soft, “Okay,” as he took a step back, out of Shiro’s space, dropping his hands from where they were still touching Shiro to his sides. He became conscious of his breaths as they took on the thick quality of sorrow, sticking in his chest.

 

He felt like he’d messed up somehow.

 

“Does your head still hurt?” Keith asked, stealing a glance at Shiro, clasping one of his hands over his wrist and gripping tightly.

 

“It’s manageable,” Shiro replied. There was a beat of silence and then, Shiro’s tone softening and their expression losing its guarded stiffness, they said, “Thank you.” Shiro then clapped their hands together, the suddenness of it shattering the moment and making Keith jump. “Alright. We should get out of here before everyone starts getting worried. Okay?” They peered at Keith, scanning his face – an action Keith was familiar with as Shiro’s way of trying to figure out how Keith was feeling.

 

“Okay,” Keith replied, quickly turning away. He wasn’t sure exactly what type of expression was on his face, but he knew that he didn’t want Shiro to sort through the intricacies of it.

 

They joined the group in the middle of the circle their lions had formed. The grass and wildflowers were long, reaching up Keith’s shins and stopping just below his knees. Thick, tall trees picked up around the clearing, the branches filled to bursting with flowers. The air was saturated with an almost dizzying mix of heavy, floral scents. Nothing about the area looked particularly alien to Keith, except for the sky – a faint pink with clouds that looked like cotton candy even though the position of the sun indicated that it had to be the middle of the day.

 

Once Keith and Shiro had integrated themselves with everyone else, they were introduced to their guide, Desi. Desi’s skin was a deep brown with shimmering, dark green scales curling around their neck, up their ears, and down the center of their face where the scales went over Desi’s snout and the slits of their nose to taper off at the hollow of their throat as well as encasing their pinkies and spiraling up what Keith could see of their arms. Their ears were large, the tops ending in dramatic points; they had four eyes, pale green, their pupils resembling a reptile’s; their black hair was braided down their back, the end of it a thick mass of curls at their hip; when they spoke, their mouth flashed sharp teeth; their limbs were long, making them as tall as Lotor; and they seemed to be chubby for their height. They were dressed in what looked like a golden robe made of a light material, a sash tied tightly around their waist. The robe pooled at their feet, had sleeves that ended at their elbows, and a wide neckline that nearly slipped right off of their shoulders.

 

After Desi had introduced themself, stating that they were a close attendant of the queen, they approached Allura. “Excuse me,” they said, their head tilted slightly to the side. “Would you mind stepping aside with me for a moment?”

 

Allura frowned, but followed after Desi, asking, “Is something wrong?” Her concern was clear in the rigidity of her stance.

 

Though they spoke in a low whisper, Keith was able to make out Desi’s words as they said, “I was told to refer to you as _Princess_ Allura. Is that correct?”

 

The tension began to leach itself from Allura’s posture. She shifted her weight to one leg, crossing her arms. “Yes, that’s correct. Was there some reason for the confusion?”

 

“My species is very perceptive to a number of things. I was able to sense that your gender doesn’t conform to your species’ binary and wished to establish whether or not you were truly comfortable with the term ‘princess’ before I used it.”

 

“Oh!” Allura exclaimed. “Oh, I see. Thank you.” When Allura turned back to the others, she and Desi walking back over to them, she was smiling widely.

 

“There are a few others I would like to inquire after before we set off and, if you don’t mind the delay, I could also gather information regarding any particular clothing needs each of you have in order to send it along to the people in charge of your rooms. Otherwise it can simply be handled after we arrive.”

 

“No, no. I don’t mind at all. Feel free.”

 

Desi nodded and set about pulling them all aside separately, asking after Lance’s, Shiro’s, and Lotor’s pronouns and what sort of special requirements everyone had for their clothing. All of the information was typed into a data pad that Desi pulled from a large, covered basket that they carried in the crook of their arm and once they had finished, they announced that the information had been sent out and everything would be handled by the time they arrived.

 

“Speaking of,” Hunk said, raising a hand, “where’s like… the transportation?”

 

“I’m afraid there isn’t any,” Desi replied. “Our planet abandoned the harmful act of paving Blencathra centuries ago, so roads and ship landing areas, with the exception of our terminals in major cities, have been overtaken by nature for quite a while now. Typically, guests arrive via the buses from our off-planet landing area and upon reaching the terminal will walk to their destination. If there is a long distance that needs to be traveled, we ride saritars.”

 

“So,” Lance said, his face scrunched up with displeasure, “what you’re saying is, we’re walking.”

 

“Yes.” Desi didn’t appear to be capable of smiling, but Keith could easily pick up the amusement in their tone. “We’re walking. But it should only take about three varga.” This statement, though Desi clearly meant for it to be reassuring, caused Lance and Hunk to groan loudly. Keith, honestly, wasn’t psyched at the thought of having to walk for hours either, but he kept his complaints to himself.

 

As it turned out, they weren’t expected to make the trip without any breaks. Desi had scheduled many rests for them during which they were encouraged to sit and hydrate themselves, and Keith was beginning to feel like they could have gotten to their destination in half the time if Desi wasn’t so concerned about their health.

 

It didn’t take very long after leaving the clearing for them to reach the city. They followed a wide, well worn path, stalls set up around them with Blencathrans selling a wide variety of objects. The buildings were built around the surrounding nature, their windows practically bursting with as many plants spilling out from the inside as there were growing on and around the buildings themselves. The whole place felt alive with a vibrancy Keith wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced before, beautiful and almost overwhelming. The chatter of voices and ringing laughter and the rustle of plants and the sounds of animals cascaded over him accompanied by the sweet scents of nature and the spicy, savory scents of various food stalls.

 

About halfway through their trip, they stopped for another of their breaks at what looked like a park. Swings were hanging from the branches of trees and a jungle gym, slide, and seesaw had been set up – young children running around, screaming and giggling and playing. Desi set down their basket in a more open area, out of the children’s way, pulling a blanket out of it.

 

As they whipped the blanket out, letting it settle to the ground, they said, “We still have a varga left to go. I know you must be starting to get hungry though, so a meal was prepared for you, if you’d like to take part in it.” Desi then began removing covered containers from the basket, opening them and setting them out.

 

“A picnic!?” Lance exclaimed. He had a wide grin on his face and was bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I am _so_ down for a picnic! It’s been years since I’ve had one of those things!”

 

Allura was smiling too, her grin just as bright as Lance’s. “Thank you for your consideration Desi.”

 

“It’s no problem at all, Princess Allura,” Desi replied. “If there’s one thing my species excels at it’s anticipating the needs of others.”

 

Their picnic break was scheduled to last longer than their other breaks so they all took advantage of their extra time to stretch out, soaking up the warmth of the sun and the sweet scent of the air.

 

Lance – seated a few feet away from Keith and leaning against Hunk, who was splayed out on the grass – wrestled off the boots of his suit to rub his feet. Pidge, sitting beside him and also leaning against Hunk, had a juice pouch in her hand and had replaced her helmet with a large-brimmed sunhat that Desi had given her to help protect her fair skin. Shiro was also a few feet away from Keith, leaning against a tree with their eyes closed and wearing a sunhat identical to Pidge’s. Allura and Desi were seated at a bench closer to the where the children were playing, Allura nodding at whatever Desi was telling her.

 

The only one within Keith’s immediate space was Lotor, the poor guy staring after Allura in a way that Keith’s own socially anxious side felt a deep connection with.

 

Keith was trying to figure out something to say, when he spotted _it_.

 

The little creature was light blue and resembled a slug. It was perched on, and possibly eating, a large leaf, near Keith’s knee. With a soft gasp and a burst of excitement, Keith leaned over, scooping up the space-slug, leaf and all. Its cute tentacles twitched as it partially rose up off the leaf, causing Keith to coo softly.

 

Keith, a huge smile on his face, turned to Lotor, his enthusiasm causing the word, “Look!” to burst out of his mouth as he carefully held the space-slug out.

 

Lotor tore his gaze away from Allura, looking first at Keith before his gaze flickered down to Keith’s hands. When he spotted the space-slug, Lotor gasped loudly, his eyes widening. “What _is_ that!?” Lotor exclaimed, horror falling over his features as he desperately scooted away from Keith.

 

“Wh-” Keith looked between Lotor and the space-slug. “Dude, are you afraid of it or something?”

 

“No! I just-” Keith scooted closer to Lotor, who let out a soft squeak, and put more distance between them. “I don’t want it near me!”

 

Keith laughed, loudly, trying his best not to jostle the space-slug. “It’s _cute_. Come on, just touch it.”

 

“Absolutely not!”

 

Keith carefully rose up onto his knees, facing down the, frankly, terrified looking Lotor and grinning evilly. As Keith started moving towards him again, Lotor scrambled up onto his hands and knees, practically diving towards Pidge, Hunk, and Lance. He managed to get behind Lance and grasped onto Lance’s shoulders, keeping him securely in front of him like a defensive wall.

 

Lance glared over his shoulder at Lotor, starting to say, “What the fuck are you-” before he turned his head back in Keith’s direction and spotted the space-slug, the rest of his statement getting lost to a scream. He held his arms out, as if to ward Keith off and yelled, “Keith, _no_!”

 

Pidge and Hunk, wisely, scooted away from the commotion as Lance and Lotor began a frantic attempt to keep each other between themselves and Keith with his space-slug. It was at that point that Keith was no longer capable of keeping up his chase because he was laughing too hard, gasping out breaths and his stomach starting to ache from it.

 

“What is going on?” Keith looked up and saw Allura approaching them, her voice raised practically to a yell in order to be heard over all of them.

 

Keith could sort of make out Lance shouting about it being Keith’s fault and Lotor attempting to calmly explain the situation, but both of their stories got lost as they talked over each other. Meanwhile, Allura had gotten close enough to get a good look at what Keith was holding and when she did her eyes lit up, her hands coming up to her cheeks.

 

“How adorable!” Allura exclaimed, hurrying the rest of the way over to kneel beside Keith as Lotor and Lance stared on blankly in shocked disbelief.

 

“I know, right?” Keith said to Allura, his voice trembling with the remnants of his laughter as he held the space-slug up, so they could both see it better. They fawned over it for a few minutes, before Keith finally let the poor thing go, apologizing softly to it as it slunk off.

 

Lance, laid out on the ground where he’d apparently dropped himself after Keith approaching with the space-slug was no longer a threat, scoffed. “You should be apologizing to _me_. I’m traumatized now, Keith,” he said.

 

“I’m going to have to agree with Lance,” Lotor said, wearily. He, like Lance hadn’t moved except to make himself comfortable, and was sitting, watching Keith closely like he was expecting another attack.

 

Keith gave a short laugh, saying, “You guys are just overdramatic.”

 

Allura sighed. “It’s such a shame they weren’t able to appreciate our cute, little friend.”

 

Both Lotor and Lance made noises of indignation and Keith and Allura exchanged an amused smile. Their lunch break ended soon after that, but Keith spent the rest of it leaning against Allura, the two of them exchanging stories about cute animals they’d run across while growing up.

 

In the final stretch of their trip, as the urban area began to give way to the land set aside for the spa, Desi explained that it doubled as housing for the royal court. Various houses were scattered across the area, those on the right side used for guests while those on the left were used for the royal court and staff. They formed a wide semi-circle around a hot spring and the two areas were partially divided by the long, rectangular building of the dining hall. The dining hall was kept mostly clear of the plant-life that thrived on the other buildings that the group had seen so far, revealing the glittering stone that the building was made of and the intricate carvings that covered it.

 

Desi peered at their data pad, leading the group past the dining hall and down one of the paths that winded its way towards the left, saying, “Since you’re political guests we’re having you stay with our permanent residents rather than with the guests that are just here for pleasure.”

 

As they moved deeper into the scattered homes the flowers growing over them became larger and more vibrant until Desi came to a stop at a cluster of circular buildings that had blossoms at least the size of Keith’s head. Able, now, to get a better look at them, Keith could see glowing symbols hovered over each of the homes.

 

“All of you have been given your own accommodations,” Desi said, pulling what looked like keycards from a pocket hidden in the folds of their robe. They passed out the cards, mentioning that the numbers – which Keith figured must have been the symbols he was seeing – on the cards corresponded with the buildings. “If you need help with anything at all, press the button near your bed. It will put you in contact with one of the staff.” Following this quick run-down, Desi asked if anyone had any other needs or questions and, after assuring Pidge that the houses _were_ climate-controlled and could be altered to their desires via a panel in the main room, they excused themself, stating that they would let everyone get settled and would speak with Allura, Shiro, and Lotor later.

 

Keith’s house was between Pidge’s and Lotor’s. As Pidge pressed her keycard to the pad by the door, Keith could hear her mumbling something about being glad to finally get out of the humidity. She was carrying her helmet under her arm, still wearing the sunhat and looking about ready to collapse despite the fact that Hunk had given her a piggy back ride during the last bit of their walk – during which Desi had apologized profusely for overestimating the stamina of humans.

 

Keith wasn’t nearly as bad off as Pidge, but he was also happy to be getting out of the hot, thick air. At this point he seriously felt like he needed a shower, his body practically plastered with sweat.

 

He pressed his keycard to the pad and the door slid open, releasing a burst of blissfully cool air. Keith walked in and took a deep, refreshing breath, the door sliding shut behind him. The room he was in was lit by wide windows that took up most of the wall space on either side of him, their gauzy curtains pulled open. The far wall – made of a dark, textured wood – seemed to bisect the house’s circumference and had two doors set into it, touchpads beside them.

 

A couch was placed in the middle of the room and Keith walked around it to get to the door on the right, opening it to reveal a small bathroom with a toilet and sink, lights set into the ceiling turning on as he went in. Another door at the far end of this room revealed a much larger, steamy room with a bubbling bathing pool and a mass of colorful bottles that Keith figured must be soaps and hair products. He stared at the bottles from the entryway for a moment, their number daunting, before backing out of the bathing room and deciding that he would ask Lance about their uses later.

 

The second door in the main room led into a bedroom. The right corner had a hammock that looked like it could comfortably seat three people and on the wall beside it, Keith saw a bright green button. The opposite wall had another wide window and where it ended there was an armoire. Keith approached the armoire, pulling its double doors open. Hanging up were multiple sets of the same outfit: cream colored shorts that tied at the crotch and long-sleeved red button ups. The fabric of the shorts felt a bit elastic, while the shirt was loose and made of the same flowing material that had made up Desi’s robe. Sashes and what looked like multiple compression sports bras were also hung up. Keith reached up, touching one of the bras and let out a soft, “Oh!” of surprise as it’s color shifted from gray to a shade identical to his skin tone.

 

Keith, feeling a giddy rush of excitement, pulled the bra off of its hanger, examining it closer as he said, “That is so cool!” Once he was satisfied with his examination, the excitement settling into a hum in his veins, he rehung the bra and a card pinned to the back of the armoire, demonstrating proper ways to wear the clothing he’d been given, caught his eye. He pulled it down, looking it over as he left the bedroom, and deposited it on the couch before going back into the bathroom. He bathed quickly, sniffing at the bottles and ending up washing his body with the first thing that bubbled up when it hit the water.

 

After he was clean, feeling and smelling so much better now that he’d scrubbed hours’ worth of sweat and dirt off of himself, he got dressed, deciding to forgo the sashes that he could tie around his hips in favor of just buttoning up the shirt. In the bottom drawer of the armoire he found leather sandals and, pulling them on, he wandered back outside, the hot air so thick it practically felt like walking into a wall. He grimaced, debating going back inside, but his stomach grumbled loudly and, besides, he kind of wanted to look around the place a bit.

 

A soft hiss met his ears and he turned to see Pidge emerging from her house, a handheld fan turned on and pointed at her face. Unlike Keith, she was dressed in a robe decorated with dark green embroidery. The robe cut off at her knees and was sleeveless; mostly held together by the sash around her waist, but it instead of having a dipping, v-shaped neckline the fabric stretched straight across her neck, buttoning together just above her left collarbone.

 

She glanced over and their eyes met. “Hey Keith!” she called, starting to walk over. “You going to get something to eat, too?”

 

“Yeah,” he replied, waiting for her to reach him. “Where’d you get that fan?”

 

Pidge glanced down at it. “I was absolutely shameless and pressed that big, tempting green button, which, by the way, puts you in touch with someone via a hologram. So maybe don’t press it while you’re getting dressed or something.” As they started walking together, Keith doing his best to keep even with Pidge’s smaller gait, Pidge began rotating the fan between the two of them, the air startlingly cool – though, Keith supposed, with alien tech he shouldn’t actually be that surprised.

 

“You didn’t press the button while you were getting dressed, did you?”

 

Pidge gave him a flat stare. “No, Keith. That sort of thing is your and Lance’s job. Anyway, I asked them if there was anything I could use to keep cool outside and they brought this over. There were a few different settings on it, but I just went ahead and put it on the highest one and, honestly? I’m thinking about sneaking off with it.” Keith laughed and Pidge lightly elbowed him in the side, saying, “I’m serious! Imagine how much better this super-fan could make my life, Keith!” She started at the fan intensely, seeming to get caught up in her thoughts as she murmured, “If I could figure out how it works maybe I could upgrade the cooling system in our suits, because _man_ was that not good enough today. I wonder if they’d let me have a second fan, that way if me and Hunk take this one apart and can’t get it back together for some reason I’ll still have a back-up.”

 

Keith shook his head, knowing it would be pointless to try to interrupt her train of thought once she got going like that. As they walked he let her voice fade into white noise, contenting himself with looking around at their surroundings: more tall grass and wildflowers and a lot of Blencathrans lounging on outdoor furniture, half-hanging out of open windows, just going about their days and barely batting an eye at Keith and Pidge.

 

One of the Blencathrans in particular ended up catching Keith’s eye. Their long, dark brown hair was braided down their back and they were carrying a young child on their hip. The child had the same warm brown skin and golden scales as the adult, who Keith figured must have been their parent. As the child babbled on, gesturing with their hands wildly, their parent laughed, a softness to their eyes that nearly tore the breath from Keith’s chest. A quick kiss was placed to the child’s forehead and, still watching them, Keith almost paused, his steps slowing.

 

He could remember, back when he was a small child, too young to start taking care of himself, a time when his father would hoist him up, peppering kisses all over his face as Keith giggled and playfully shoved his hands in his father’s face, laughing even harder as his attempts to stop him were easily thwarted.

 

He could remember the feelings of safety and security.

 

He could remember, vaguely, the feeling of being loved – more loved, in those moments, than he’d ever felt since.

 

The child, catching sight of Keith, waved and Keith was sent stumbling back into motion, swiftly looked away, doing his best to act like he _hadn’t_ just been staring at random strangers. Coming back to himself, he noticed that he’d been scratching at the mark on his cheek again. He jerked his hand away and crossed his arms, as if that would keep his traitorous hands from wandering back. A glance at Pidge showed him that, though he’d fallen a couple steps behind her, she hadn’t seemed to notice his momentary distraction, so he picked up his pace and fell back into step with her.

 

He tried to stay in the present moment – conscious of the sun pressing heat into his body, the brief bursts of the fan cooling his face, the tall grass along the edge of the worn dirt path brushing his calves – but thoughts of his father kept pulling at him; pulling and pulling and unraveling him from the inside out.

 

His father had started slipping away for days at a time when Keith was eight, some time after their house had burned down, and when Keith was 10 ‘days at a time’ had started turning into ‘weeks at a time’ and not long after that, when Keith was 11, there was a day that his father left and just… never came back. Keith knew that it was pointless to wonder where his father had gone and if he’d even left that final time with the intention of coming back – these were questions he hadn’t entertained for years now, beaten into submission by the lack of answers, despair wrapping firmly around him and never quite letting go.

 

Keith knew it was pointless to wonder, but at this moment – on this random planet in the middle of space and while running away from his mother, a woman he hadn’t even thought could still be alive until recently and who he wasn’t sure he’d ever be completely ready to face – Keith couldn’t help it. A new possibility danced through his mind: his father getting wrapped up in alien bullshit, the same way Keith had – a possibility that was startling in how likely it could be seeing as the man had managed to meet Krolia in the first place.

 

Keith tightened his arms around himself, squeezing and squeezing – his ribs aching with it.

 

His drew his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down hard and pulling and biting again.

 

He tried shake his thoughts, tried to focus on Pidge’s incoherent murmuring, but the thoughts kept up a barrage at the back of his mind, insistent, demanding, forceful, whispering at him: _What if they both left you? What if they both left you to go out and save the universe? First your mother and then your father, both of them realizing there was something better they could do with their lives than raise_ you _. What if they_ both left you _?_

 

When Keith felt fingertips brushing his arm, he jumped, so lost in his own head he hadn’t noticed Pidge’s hand approaching him. He glanced over at her, his bottom lip feeling thoroughly abused and his body subtly trembling.

 

Pidge was looking up at him, a frown on her face. She wrapped her hand as far as it would go around his bicep and squeezed, gently. “Hey Keith,” she said, her voice soft and her thumb rubbing in a soothing up and down motion. “Are you feeling okay?”

 

Keith nodded, not much feeling like talking, his emotions making his throat tight and his tongue heavy.

 

Pidge nodded, though the frown didn’t leave her lips. “Do you want to hang out after this? I turned on that screen in our rooms and it turns out we’ve got space-cable. So, we can, like, make up what’s going on in a soap opera or something?”

 

Keith smiled faintly, nodding again as he mumbled a soft, “Sure.”

 

Pidge held onto his arm for the rest of their walk to the dining hall, only stopping once she realized she’d need both hands to serve herself at the buffet. They ended up sneaking out of the dining hall with their plates and drinks even though they weren’t sure that was allowed, the noise and the idea of hunting down an empty table unappealing to both of them.

 

As they made their way back to Pidge’s house, the sky was starting to deepen into a dark purple at the horizon, the sun setting and some of the heat beginning to leach out of the air. Pidge chatted to Keith about things she and Hunk were working on, a lot it going right over his head even though he was pretty sure she was doing her best to simplify it, and about things she and her brother gotten up to before he’d joined back up with the resistance.

 

Keith listened, attentively, nodding and laughing at all the right parts, and once the two of them had settled in for the night, following through on their plan of watching alien soap operas, his laughter became more frequent, more real, more satisfying. Both of them were basically in tears, Pidge rolling around on the floor, by the time there was a pounding on her door.

 

Pidge crawled over, getting back up to her feet to answer it and standing there was Lance, his hands on his hips and wearing a face mask and what looked like a nightgown. “What are you two _doing_?” Lance asked. “I can hear you all the way from-” He froze as he spotted the television and then gasped loudly, a hand pressed to his chest. “Are you making fun of shitty soap operas _without_ me!? Move aside, Pidge, I’m crashing this party!” He pushed his way in, sitting on one side of Keith, Pidge returning to sit on the other.

 

The three of them spent the rest of the night making up dialogue and wheezing with laughter, their bodies contorting into dubiously comfortable positions on the couch and their limbs being arranged and rearranged around each other.

 

Neither Keith or Lance ended up returning to their own accommodations for the night, Lance crashing early on the couch and Keith and Pidge fitting themselves, in opposite directions, onto her hammock.

 

Keith fell asleep to the faint sound of breathing, memories of a time when he used to go to sleep curled up with his father chasing him into his dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? In love with my collection of alien ocs whose species is rather blatantly just a bunch of nb lesbians? It’s, probably, just as likely as you’d think.
> 
> Not sure when the next installation of this series is gonna be up. I’ve been hit with multiple ideas, so this series has expanded beyond just having the second part that I originally thought it might get. I’m still considering what exactly I want to come next because I have a few options lined up, depending on how I want the storyline to go. There’s also at least one offshoot fic that I could write instead of diving right into progressing the plot. So. We’ll see what happens!

Keith was the first to wake up. He rolled out of the hammock, doing his best to avoid jostling Pidge too much, and, with a quick stop to retrieve his sports bra, he stumbled out into the main room, rubbing at his eyes, his mouth stretching around a large yawn. He slipped into the bathroom and when he came out, Lance was awake, glaring at the ceiling. The soft sound of the door must have caught Lance’s attention because he craned his neck and, spotting Keith, waved tiredly.

 

“Hey,” Lance said, his voice raspy from sleep.

 

Keith raised an eyebrow, walking over and sitting at Lance’s feet after lightly pushing them aside, asking, “What’re you doing up so early?”

 

Lance groaned, throwing an arm across his eyes. “It’s too bright,” he grumbled. “Is Pidge still asleep?”

 

“She was when I left the room, yeah.”

 

Lance sighed and pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Okay, well, since I’m up and all, I guess I’ll go get ready. Do you want to get breakfast with me?”

 

“Sure.” Keith glanced towards Pidge’s room. “Do you think we should wake her up?”

 

“Uh, _no_ ,” Lance said around a yawn, stretching his arms high up above his head. “Not unless you want to die.”

 

“ _Right_.” Keith forced a smile to his lips as he tried to fight off the unpleasant feeling swirling up inside of him, an automatic visceral reaction to the mention of death, untempered by the fact that Lance had obviously been joking. Memories of nearly flying himself straight into the barrier surrounding Naxzela pulled at him, making his heartrate speed up and his palms feel sweaty.

 

Lance dragged a hand through his hair, causing the curls to fluff up wildly, and Keith, half-distracted, was suddenly reminded that he hadn’t been able to properly wash his own hair yesterday.

 

“Oh!” Keith exclaimed, possibly with a bit too much force, readily latching onto a change in subject. “Lance, you know what all those bottles in the bathing room are for, right?”

 

Lance stood, stretching again until his back gave a loud crack that made Keith wince. “ _Duh_ ,” he replied, as if it was ridiculous that Keith had even had to ask. “That was, like, the first thing I figured out. Allura was helping me until she got busy with political stuff.” Lance crossed his arms, his mouth twisting up a bit, then he waved a hand, his expression brightening. “I was _not_ about to have a repeat of that time my hair turned green though, you know, so I got someone to help me and they were super nice.”

 

Keith hummed skeptically. He crossed his arms, wondering if the tremors he could feel running through his insides were visible at all. “And cute?” he asked, determined to act like nothing was wrong.

 

Lance scoffed. “That is neither here nor there. But yes.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Of course they were. Do you think you could show me what’s what?”

 

Lance froze then took a step away from Keith. “ _Please_ tell me you bathed yesterday.”

 

“Wha- Of _course_ I did,” Keith snapped, wrinkling his nose with disgust, his annoyance washing over him, forcing aside the residual Molotov cocktail of emotions he’d been trying to repress. “And before you ask, _yes_ , I washed. _With soap_.”

 

Lance held up his hands in surrender, shrugging. “Just checking, man. I mean, before I went to the Garrison I thought _everybody_ bathed properly. Now,” Lance shuddered, “I just don’t trust _anyone_ anymore. And, no offense,” Lance shook his head, eyeing Keith distrustfully, “but you kinda give off the vibes of someone that wouldn’t.”

 

Keith gaped at him, throwing his arms out in a ‘what the hell?’ motion. “ _How_?”

 

Lance’s eyes widened slightly, his gaze falling away from Keith, as he pressed a hand to his mouth. “Uhh. Well.” He looked back at Keith, dropping his hand from his mouth to ruffle it through his hair, mussing it up further. “I guess we could start with the fact that I’ve heard you admit to willingly eating a half-frozen hot-pocket.”

 

“That has nothing to do with whether or not I know how to properly take a damn shower.”

 

Lance’s face scrunched up. “Doesn’t it though?”

 

“No!” Keith crossed his arms, glaring at Lance.

 

“Okay!” Lance rolled his eyes, moving his hands in a placating gesture. “You know what, it’s okay. Forget about it. I trust you. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

 

Keith pouted, but didn’t push the matter further. Instead, he and Lance went to Keith’s vacation house where Lance set about sorting out what products were safe for humans to use and which products were used for what. He also recommended a few of them to Keith based on what he remembered Laila, the Blencathran who had helped him, telling him about them. Leaving the bathing room, Lance stopped at the sink in the bathroom, pulling out the tubs of gels, creams, and lotions from the cupboard under it and proceeding to do the same thing.

 

After checking to see if Keith had gotten everything, Lance had patted him on the arm and left, the two of them planning for Keith to stop by Lance’s vacation house when he was finished so they could head out for breakfast.

 

Keith quickly got ready, freshening up and throwing on a new pair of clothes. He froze for a brief moment near the bathroom mirror, eyes catching on the purple mark on his face. He leaned in close, staring at it, touching it gently with his fingertips, and a wave of discomfort rolled through him. With a rough shake of his head, Keith turned around, leaving the mirror behind and heading over to Lance’s.

 

After knocking, it was Hunk rather than Lance that answered the door. He was dressed in an outfit similar to Keith’s, though his shirt was sleeveless and a golden yellow that was vibrant against the dark brown of his skin. He’d chosen to wear the sash tied around his hips, leaving his shirt open in a sliver of a ‘v’ down to his bellybutton.

 

Keith frowned, looking around himself to make sure he hadn’t gotten the wrong building, and Hunk recaptured his attention, saying, “Hey Keith, Lance mentioned you’d be coming by. He’s still in the bathroom.”

 

“Oh,” Keith replied, nodding. He stepped past Hunk into a replica of the main room in his own building. “You’re coming to breakfast with us too?”

 

“Yup!” Hunk smiled at Keith, the door sliding shut behind them, and dropped himself onto the couch. “I thought I’d wake Lance up and drag him with me, but he was already getting ready when I got here.”

 

“We spent the night with Pidge and he was in the living room, so the light woke him up,” Keith explained. He was still hovering near the doorway.

 

“Aw, you guys had a sleepover? Without me?” Hunk asked, disappointment etching itself onto his expression, with a furrow of his eyebrows and a downturn of his lips.

 

“It was after you went to bed,” Lance’s voice called out from the bathroom. “Didn’t think you’d wanna be woken up!”

 

“It was kind of a spur of the moment thing,” Keith supplied. Hunk – having turned to look in the direction of the bathroom door – returned his attention to Keith. “Lance just stopped by to lodge a noise complaint because apparently,” he grinned, his tone turning playfully sarcastic, “me and Pidge were being horrifically obnoxious-”

 

“You _were_!” Lance interjected.

 

Keith, acting as though Lance hadn’t said anything, continued, “-and he got sucked into the show we had on.”

 

“Alien soap opera?”

 

Keith nodded. “Alien soap opera.”

 

Hunk groaned, looking at Keith mournfully. “I am _definitely_ going to be part of the next sleepover. Promise me.”

 

Keith laughed. “Yeah, buddy, I promise. And if you’re already passed out, we’ll just bring the sleepover to you; I’m sure Pidge could hack into the entry pads if she wanted.”

 

Hunk paused, narrowing his eyes. “I’m torn between thanking you and discouraging breaking and entering…”

 

Before Keith could pose the question of if it was really ‘breaking and entering’ if nothing got broken, the bathroom door was opening with a hiss and Lance was bursting through it with a loud, “I’m ready!” and a flourish, posing in the doorway.

 

Keith, having witnessed this behavior on occasions when political meetings had required all of the Voltron team to dress up in formal clothes, didn’t even spare a moment of thought before he and Hunk were simultaneously flashing Lance a thumbs up. Lance’s robes resembled Desi’s, though they were a pale blue and the neckline wasn’t quite as wide. He gave a quick spin and the skirts of the robe flared out around him.

 

“You look great!” Hunk said.

 

“Thanks,” Lance replied, grinning at him. “You do too, handsome.”

 

A few more casual flirtations were exchanged between them and then the attention turned to Keith, where he was ruthlessly tag-teamed by Lance and Hunk until, through sheer force of will and a seemingly endless supply of compliments, they actually managed to get him embarrassed and, stalking out of the building, his ears burning bright red, he snapped, “Seriously, I’m leaving without you guys!”

 

The thick, hot air provided no relief for his burning skin and Lance throwing an arm around his shoulders when he and Hunk caught up to him certainly didn’t help matters, but Keith didn’t particularly mind, a small smile on his lips as Lance rattled on about something a bit too loudly and too close to his ear and Hunk, flanking Keith’s other side, laughed. Even with the moisture in the air sticking in his throat, it felt easy to breathe.

 

Rounding a corner in the path to the dining hall, Keith spotted Allura, Lotor, and Coran ahead of them.

 

“Hey! Allura!” Lance called out, waving his free arm. The group stopped, turning around, and Allura waved back. Her robes were similar to Pidge’s, buttoning at her collarbone and ending at her knees, but the embroidery was pink and a sheer fabric that extended to Allura’s ankles was sewn over the skirt of the robes.

 

Lance released Keith to run up to her, he and Allura catching each other’s hands as Keith and Hunk jogged over at a more reasonable pace.

 

“Hello paladins!” Coran called to them, smiling. “Have you all had a relaxing first night here?” Coran, like Hunk, was also dressed in the same type of clothes as Keith, but he let his shirt gape wide open and his shorts had latticework running up the sides that revealed his skin.

 

“Hey Coran,” Hunk responded. “It’s been pretty nice, yeah.”

 

“Same,” Lance said, swinging his and Allura’s arms back and forth, Allura simply allowing it to happen, an amused smile on her lips.

 

“And you Keith?” Coran asked as Keith came to a stop.

 

“No complaints,” Keith replied with a shrug. His gaze slid away from Coran and landed on Lotor, who was watching Allura and Lance.

 

Lotor’s robe fell about his feet and had billowing sleeves with slits up their centers, causing them to fall away from his arms when he shifted. At the moment, with a faint breeze tugging at them, Keith could just barely make out a myriad of scars – quite a few of them thin and white and faded with age – going up Lotor’s inner forearms and his biceps.

 

Keith frowned, averting his eyes, and reminded himself that though he and the rest of the group, barring Shiro, had yet to become particularly scarred over the course of the battles they’d been fighting, it wasn’t abnormal that Lotor would be. The Galra in the Blade of Marmora had plenty of scars and they hadn’t lived and fought nearly as long as Lotor had – if anything, royalty or not, scarring was to be expected.

 

Keith brought a hand up to his cheek, rubbing his thumb along the mark there, wondering when, without the pods at the Castle of Lions, his work with the Blade of Marmora would cause his own skin to become riddled with scars. Wondering if he’d be able to look at them and remember how and when they had happened. Wondering if that’d be _all_ he’d see when he looked at himself.

 

Lance’s voice asking Allura, “No political business this morning?” caught Keith’s attention, dragging him out of his thoughts.

 

“Actually,” Allura responded, “we just got out of a meeting.”

 

“You did?” Keith asked, confused. “Shouldn’t Shiro be with you then?”

 

Allura’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, her lips shifting into a concerned frown. “Shiro said they were feeling a bit ill so they returned to their room to rest.”

 

“Oh…” Keith glanced back down the path, worry pulling at him, making him want to go check on Shiro. The only thing keeping him in place was the memory of Shiro’s defensive reaction to his concern over the headache they’d gotten yesterday. “Did they seem okay?”

 

Allura hummed, seeming to think through her answer. “Well, I suppose I’m not the best at judging what’s typical for humans, but they said they were fine and I _believe_ Shiro appeared alright.”

 

Allura glanced over at Coran who nodded in agreement. “Yes, they weren’t turning any strange colors or expelling fluids, so I imagine it can’t have been anything serious,” he assured Keith.

 

“That’s… good, I guess,” Keith replied, stealing another glance down the path as everyone else began moving again, Lance releasing one of Allura’s hands and grabbing onto one of Hunk’s and Coran leading the way.

 

As Keith turned back around he noticed that his moment of hesitation had resulted in him falling in step with Lotor.

 

“You don’t seem convinced that Shiro’s fine,” Lotor said as they walked, looking over at Keith.

 

Keith shrugged. “It’s nothing,” he replied, unsure if he was trying to convince Lotor or himself. “A lot’s happened with Shiro and I’m probably just being overprotective.”

 

Lotor was looking at him curiously. “Are you certain it’s a good idea to ignore your instincts?”

 

_That_ made Keith pause. It was true, following his instincts was kind of _his thing_. It was what had gotten him to let Shiro in when he was younger, what had convinced him that no matter what the Garrison claimed Shiro was still alive, what had urged him onto that search for the blue lion, what had what kept him alive and mostly uninjured during fights. But… “I mean-” Keith sighed, frustrated. “If Shiro’s saying they’re fine there’s not much I-we can do. And they’re- With injuries, they’re not like me. If something was seriously wrong, they’d tell us.”

 

“I see,” Lotor said, softly, his attention shifting away from Keith.

 

The concession threw Keith off; he’d been expecting that he’d have to defend his point and was ready for it – ready to explain that there couldn’t be anything wrong with Shiro because if there was Allura and Coran would have been more concerned and Shiro wouldn’t have denied it when Keith had asked. Not given the chance to argue, Keith was left hovering in uncertainty – his need to reassure himself becoming more blatant as silence stretched between himself and Lotor.

 

When Keith finally broke, he asked, “You… you didn’t think anything was wrong with Shiro, did you?”

 

Lotor shook his head. “I’m not sure. Everyone else here knows them much better than I do. If they were lying about being fine I wouldn’t know how to tell.”

 

Keith frowned, his worry decidedly not assuaged, and tried not to think about it as they finished up their walk to the dining area.

 

Inside the building Keith spotted what must have been the queen, seated up on a dais, multiple Blencathrans at their side. When they noticed the group the queen stood, making their way over to them at the buffet table. Their snout was more prominent than that of the other Blencathrans Keith had seen, their skin was dark brown, their scales a reddish-copper; pink eyeliner emphasized the upward slant of their eyes; and their black hair was tied into braids that fell to their waist, a few of them slipping over their shoulders. Their robe had slits up both sides, the material in front slipping between their legs while they walked and the material in back fanning out behind them. Their robe was parted slightly all the way down to where a pink rope was tied tightly about their hips. They looked languid and graceful and greeted Allura with a hug, as if they hadn’t recently gotten out of a meeting with her.

 

“Hello paladins,” they said as they released Allura. “Once you’ve all served yourselves you should come sit with me.” They smiled pleasantly, their eyes scanning over everyone, before settling back on Allura.

 

“Thank you, Queen Aria,” Allura responded, gently pulling her hand from Lance’s so she could grab a plate. Aria gave one final pat to Allura’s shoulder before heading back to their seat.

 

Lance stared after Aria, his mouth gaping open. Hunk reached over and closed it for him.

 

“What was _that_ about?” Lance asked Allura, whispering furiously while he also grabbed himself a plate.

 

Allura shrugged. “The Blencathrans are an affectionate people when it comes to family and friends. I assume it’s a practice that must extend to political allies.”

 

Lance’s head then whipped in Lotor’s direction. “Did the queen hug _you_ too?”

 

“Ah, no,” Lotor replied. “I told them I wasn’t comfortable with it, so…”

 

Lance blinked, as if the idea of not readily accepting affection was completely foreign to him. “Huh,” he said. “You just not an ‘affection’ sort of person or is it the whole ‘they’re a stranger’ thing?”

 

Lotor tensed, his mouth twisting up with displeasure. “It’s complicated,” he said, with an air of finality, making it clear that he didn’t want to elaborate on the matter.

 

“Oh.” Lance grimaced, looking like he was regretting having said anything in the first place. “Well if you ever _do_ want a hug, Hunk gives great ones.”

 

Lotor smiled slightly, his body relaxing with an amused shake of his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

Pidge arrived half-way through breakfast in what looked like a hastily thrown on outfit and with her hair an absolute mess. She joined them at Queen Aria’s table, taking the seat next to Keith while yawning out a, “Hey,” and giving him a brief pat on the arm.

 

“We’re all stopping by the hot springs after this if you want to come,” Keith told her as she began inhaling her breakfast, pausing only to nod.

 

When she finished, after guzzling some juice, she asked, “Are we just checking it out or…?”

 

Keith glanced down the table at the rest of their group then looked back at Pidge with a shrug. “Not sure. Unless they’re wearing bathing suits under their clothes, though, I don’t think any of us are prepared to just jump right in.”

 

“Cool because I’m definitely not prepared and watching people hang out in a glorified hot tub isn’t really how I want to spend my morning.”

 

Keith laughed and Pidge smiled back at him, the two of them continuing to chat while they waited for everyone else to finish eating.

 

Queen Aria accompanied them to the hot spring, an arm wrapped around Allura’s waist, Lotor walking closely behind them. Apparently, cut off from Allura, Lotor looked pitiful enough that Lance took pity on him, walking beside him and attempting to pull him into the conversations that he and Hunk were having. Keith had decided to stick with Pidge, the two of them linking their arms together and letting Coran talk, regaling them with stories about visits he’d made to Blencathra in the past. Pidge had once again taken out her portable fan and was using it to keep herself and Keith cool.

 

On the way to the hot spring, they passed a few buildings in the general vicinity. Large windows looked in on what appeared to be a massage therapist, a nail salon, and a Blencathran version of a cat café. Keith and Pidge were particularly interested in the ‘cat café,’ both of them staring intently at the building as they passed.

 

“We have _got_ to go in there,” Pidge said.

 

“On the way back?” Keith suggested, still looking at the building, twisting his body to keep it in his line of sight.

 

There was a pause and then Pidge stopped walking, Keith getting jostled slightly as their linked arms pulled him to a stop as well. He looked over at her about to ask what was wrong when she said, “Or now?”

 

“Now?” Keith asked.

 

Pidge nodded. “Now.” She started tugging Keith back in the direction of the ‘cat café’ and flashed him a grin. “Let’s ditch these losers and hang out with some pets.”

 

The ‘cat café’ was filled with a variety of small, fluffy animals. The Blencathran at the front desk told them they could feel free to touch the animals but weren’t allowed to pick them up and then they were encouraged to feel free to explore the large room – or, in Pidge’s case, frolic among the space puppies. Keith sat down near her, watching in amusement as she allowed herself to be dogpiled, the puppies yipping happily as they crawled all over her and Pidge cooed at them.

 

Keith was so distracted by the sight that he didn’t notice an animal approaching him until he felt a tiny paw on his knee. Glancing down, Keith gasped. In that moment – locking eyes with an adorable baby wolf with black and blue fur – Keith honestly believed that love at first sight could exist. It took every ounce of his willpower not to scoop the pup up into his hands and when it yawned widely, flashing its small fangs, he couldn’t stop himself from whispering, “You are _so_ _cute_!”

 

The wolf pup blinked lazily at him, then climbed into his lap, curling up for a nap and effectively trapping Keith where he was seated. He tentatively reached out, lightly stroking the wolf’s fur, and it snuggled contentedly against his leg.

 

“Pidge!” Keith whispered as loudly as he dared with the sleeping animal in his lap. “Pidge!” Pidge glanced over at him from underneath her pile of puppies and he gestured forcefully at the wolf pup. “We’re keeping this one!”

 

Pidge glanced between him and the pup and gave two thumbs up before going back to snuggling the puppies.

 

It wasn’t long before Keith spotted familiar faces peering into the ‘decidedly-not-a-cat-café’s’ window and then Lance was entering, Hunk and Lotor coming in behind him and peering around the room – Hunk, in particular, looking positively ecstatic, a large grin growing on his face as he took in the sheer number of fluffy animals wandering the room.

 

“ _There_ you two are,” Lance said. He was also looking around, his eyes pausing on a huddle of space cats on the far side of the room. “You just disappeared.”

 

“Hey guys,” Pidge called.

 

“We got… distracted,” Keith said, exchanging a glance with Pidge, both of them dissolving in to laughter.

 

“Yeah, I can _see_ that.” Lance shook his head, smiling, then turned to the front desk attendant. Upon taking a good look at them he exclaimed “Hey!” his smile growing wider. “Laila!”

 

The front desk attendant, apparently the mysterious ‘Laila’ who had helped Lance sort through his hair and bathing products, perked up, waving at him. Their thick, dark brown hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, curls cascading down their back; their white skin was scattered with a multitude of freckles; and their scales a vibrant purple. “Hi,” they said. “It’s good to see you again.”

 

Moving past Lance, Hunk came over and sat in front of Keith, scratching the wolf pup between its ears and ‘aww-ing’ when it’s ears twitched and its tail began to wag, slapping softly against Keith’s leg. “It’s so small and perfect,” Hunk whispered, shooting Keith a quick glance, actual tears shinning in his eyes. He then reached out with his other hand to lightly prod at one of the pup’s paws, petting the fur of its toes while softly squishing the pad of its foot.

 

“We’re keeping it,” Keith whispered back, staring down at the pup fondly as it stretched.

 

“We _are_!?” Hunk looked at Keith, his eyes positively shinning now.

 

Keith looked back at him, his tone one of absolute seriousness as he said, “I am not leaving this planet without this wolf.”

 

“I totally support you and this decision,” Hunk responded, equally as serious though his grin ruined the effect a bit.

 

Allura was, to say the least, displeased with the plan of adopting the wolf, wrinkling her nose and saying, “We are _not_ taking a cosmic wolf home.” Unfortunately for her, Keith also had Hunk, Pidge, and Lance on his side and Allura could only hold out against the combined weight of their puppy-dog eyes for so long before she heaved a long, loud, put-upon sigh and grumbled out, “Fine, but you all are in charge of taking care of it and its messes!” She then turned on her heal and joined Lance and Lotor over by the cats as Keith, Pidge, and Hunk high-fived each other.

 

Shiro was present for lunch looking cheery and well-rested, their clothing similar to Coran’s though they’d opted not to leave their shirt quite so open. The wolf had been left behind, Laila having informed them that it couldn’t be allowed to run around in the vacation homes as well as assured them that they would be able to pick it up before they left the planet. Keith, however, had gotten plenty of pictures on his phone and spent a large portion of the time Shiro was eating showing the pictures off and explaining to Shiro just how soft and cute the wolf actually was and repeating, multiple times, that Shiro would have to see the wolf pup in person to truly understand.

 

Shiro had taken it all in with an amused smile, ruffling Keith’s hair and telling him that they were glad he was enjoying himself.

 

Overall, the days on Blencathra passed lazily for Keith with little variation. His schedule included visiting the dining hall for his meals, sitting around the hot springs while his friends soaked in the water, spending time with his wolf, and hanging out around the locals with everyone, socializing.

 

Shiro took a serious interest in the massage therapist – always so much more relaxed after each visit, looking like weeks of stress had been massaged right out of him – while Lance, Pidge, Hunk and Allura frequented the ‘not-a-cat-café.’ Keith was becoming positive that by the end of this trip at least one of them was going to have adopted another animal in addition to his wolf.

 

All of the nights turned into large sleepovers, the entire group piling into someone’s vacation home and getting comfortable on or around the couch with the television on, passing out with three people squeezed onto the hammock, one on the couch, and four of them spread out on the floor with cushions and blankets taken from their own places.

 

Keith could feel any residual tension leaving his body as the days passed, the same way he could _see_ the awkwardness between Lotor and the rest of the group beginning to thaw as they all became looser with him, more casual, more open. During one of the sleepovers Lance and Pidge even braided his hair. Lotor’s agreement at the time had been tentative but, by the end of it – Lance and Pidge finally growing tired of playing with his hair and moving on to Allura’s and then Keith’s – he’d practically melted into a puddle of contentment.

 

It was an unwelcome inevitability when Keith’s anxieties began to resurface on the final night of their trip. Keith knew that leaving Blencathra didn’t mean his ‘vacation’ was over, he’d still have time at the castle – time to think everything through – but that didn’t stop him from feeling the pressure to make a decision. A whole movement had already passed, after all. He couldn’t stay away from the Blade of Marmora forever, hiding at the Castle of Lions and doing nothing to help the cause.

 

This anxiety had him up long past the time everyone else had fallen asleep and, gently removing himself from the hammock, he left the bedroom and tiptoed through the living room and out of the building entirely. The sky above him was a deep burgundy, beautiful in a mildly disconcerting way, and two moons shined down in him, casting a gentle light on the planet.

 

Keith took a few deep breaths and, with sleep far from a possibility and nothing else to do, decided that he may as well use the hot spring. He’d had yet to use it due to his bruises and, grabbing his bathing suit from his vacation house, he felt a bit giddy about it – sneaking around in the middle of the night for a secret trip to, as Pidge had put it, a ‘glorified hot tub.’

 

Stepping back outside, he saw a figure leaning against the side of the building from the corner of his eye and quickly spun to face them, automatically dropping into a defensive stance. It took a moment for him to process that it was _Lotor_ standing there, now with his hands raised in surrender.

 

“What the _hell_ ,” Keith hissed, relaxing and pressing a hand to his chest, the other clutching his towel tightly, his heartbeat rapid from the surprise and adrenaline thrumming through his veins. “You scared the quiznack out of me.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Lotor said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

 

Keith crossed his arms. “What are you doing here?”

 

Lotor raised an eyebrow, looking at Keith pointedly. “That’s what I was wondering.”

 

Keith gestured down at his swim trunks. “ _I_ was just heading down to the hot spring.” He scowled. “I thought everyone was asleep. What are you doing up?”

 

“You woke me,” Lotor replied.

 

“Oh.” Keith grimaced. “Sorry about that.”

 

“It’s not your fault. I haven’t been able to sleep very well lately.” Lotor seemed to hesitate, debating for a moment, before adding, “Sleeping around others… puts me a bit on edge.”

 

“Huh,” Keith murmured, reaching up to tug at the hair on the back of his neck. It still felt awkward to be alone with Lotor, but… “Did you want to come with me, then?"

 

A beat or two of silence, then, “Yes, thank you.”

 

“No problem.”

 

The water of the hot spring felt, frankly, amazing on Keith’s sore skin. His bruises were healing – becoming lighter, some already turning yellow – but they were still rather prominent, still ached. He sat down low in the water, his limbs turning to jelly, and hummed contentedly. Lotor, his hair wrapped up – the entire mass of it twisted and then firmly clipped – was sitting beside him, also letting the pleasant, soothing heat wash over him.

 

A few minutes passed in silence until Lotor asked, conversationally, “Is there a reason you were unable to sleep?”

 

Keith’s eyes, having slipped closed, snapped open. He glanced over at Lotor, frowning, the subtle urge to _talk_ to someone rising up. He inhaled slowly, licked his lips, looked away from Lotor, locking his gaze on some point in the distance.

 

Keith knew that if he talked to someone it should probably be Shiro. Shiro would do their best to understand where Keith was coming from and try to give him sound advice. Shiro wouldn’t judge him. Wouldn’t make him feel like his worries were unfounded or ridiculous or just plain stupid.

 

Keith _knew_ all of that but… But something about telling Shiro also made the situation feel that much more real. Once Shiro knew there would be no hiding from it anymore. No option to just forget the whole thing and keep going like everything was the same as it had always been. If Krolia existed to Shiro, even as a vague figure known by nothing more than Keith’s brief recount of her, Keith, quite honestly, feared that something between himself and Shiro would shift.

 

For years Shiro had been all that Keith had had and, sure, now he also had everyone else in their group too, but that was _different_. Shiro was practically family in a way that the rest of them just… weren’t. Not _yet_ anyway. And if Keith and Shiro had to make room for Krolia – real family, no ‘practically’ about it – Keith wasn’t sure what that would mean for them.

 

If he told Lotor, on the other hand – Lotor who was still essentially a stranger, an acquaintance on the way to becoming a friend, someone who had no investment in Keith’s life and drama, someone who had his own messy family situation to live with – well, _that_ sounded a hell of a lot more low-risk.

 

“Yeah,” Keith said, quietly, nervous, his breaths shuddering. “Can I- can I tell you something?”

 

“Of course,” Lotor replied.

 

Keith paused for a long moment, wondering where to start then said, “The thing is, I don’t really know my parents. Either of them. At least, not very well. For a long time I didn’t know anything about my mom other than that she was gone, presumably dead, and then my dad just… just _vanished_ one day when I was 11.” Keith heaved out a sigh. “He was gone kind of a lot while I was growing up, too, ever since I turned 8, I think. My memories of him aren’t bad, he just… he wasn’t really there and then was gone entirely.” Keith shook his head, drawing one knee up to his chest and looping an arm around it as best as he could all covered in water.

 

A few long moments of silence passed and then, leaning in closer, Lotor asked, “Is that really all that’s bothering you?” his tone one of simple curiosity.

 

Keith looked over at him, gnawing on his lower lip, still debating, wondering if this was a bad idea after all. Lotor looked back at him steadily and, suddenly, Keith got it – he could completely understand how Allura and Shrio had accepted Lotor so quickly with his concerned frown and those questioning eyes and the weight of his full attention, all gently prodding the people speaking to him into continuing to talk while also leaving _them_ in control of what they chose to say, the extent of what they decided to reveal.

 

“I met my mother,” Keith said, throwing caution to the wind. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Recently. I met her recently. She’s the reason I’m on this, uh, vacation.” Keith dropped his gaze to the water. “I don’t know what to think or how to feel about her. I mean, she was never _there_.” He could feel his chest constricting, his throat tightening up. “She _left_ me. And now I’ve run into her by chance and she’s, like, this whole part of myself that I don’t know _anything_ about and actually meeting her – deciding to let her in – changes things and that scares me.” Keith dragged a hand down his face, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. His voice dropped to a soft whisper as he said, “And seeing her _hurts_ , but it feels good at the same time and I just… I just want to stop _hurting_ about it.”

 

Lotor listened to Keith attentively and began nodding thoughtfully when he finished. “You know,” Lotor said, slowly, the words coming out in a manner so remarkably candid that Keith found himself lifting his gaze to look at Lotor properly, “I used to hate my Galra heritage. And when you look at the state of things of course there’s nothing to be proud of. But where it became a problem was how much deeper I allowed that hate to run, letting it effect _myself_.” Lotor sighed.

 

“I suppose it was always a bit more personal for me, though, all of those feelings getting tied up with my father. And I… I _desperately_ did not want to be him. I don’t think I can accurately convey all the pains I used to take, just to ensure I was nothing like him. It took a long, long time, but eventually I came to the realization that there’s nothing inherently wrong with _me_.” Lotor took a deep breath, turning his gaze to the horizon, the fingers of one hand beginning to idly trace up and down his forearm. “Tearing myself up about where and who I came from wasn’t solving anything.”

 

There was a brief silence, the air filled with a light breeze and the swell of an emotion, thick and heavy – like tension or sorrow or acceptance. “Parents,” Lotor said, softly but firmly,” don’t always have to mean anything to you. In my case that involves me choosing to recreate myself, rewriting my present and making it something I can be proud of, something completely different than the shadow my father left me with.” Lotor’s fingers stilled, his gaze dropping to the water. “I’m still doing that, of course. I have a lot of things I still need to learn.” Another pause and he was clearing his throat, returning his attention to Keith.

 

“What I’m trying to get at, here, is just because you’ve met your mother doesn’t mean you need to rethink who you’ve made yourself into, nor does it mean you have to drastically alter your life to accommodate her. She has no control over you. If you want to form some sort of connection with her, it’s fine to start small. But you don’t _owe_ her anything. Of course,” Lotor added, grimacing, “the closest thing I have to a stable interpersonal relationship is my friendship with Allura, so I may not be the best person to receive advice on making one from. But,” he looked at Keith, “I believe the rest of my point, at least, stands.”

 

“Yeah, I- thank you,” Keith said. “That does help some. I think.”

 

They settled back into silence after that, Keith’s thoughts effectively tied up in what Lotor had said.

 

They left the planet the next morning with a decent amount of fanfare, the political negotiations having been successful, and another three varga walk, this time with the wolf pup around to make the trip even longer. The curious little thing was constantly running off of the path when it got bored of being cradled in Keith’s arms, its teleportation powers making it impossible to keep track of at all times and causing Keith more than one mini-heart attack over the course of the morning.

 

When they reached the lions they hastily boarded, more than ready to be home and, upon reaching the castle, they all but collapsed, sprawling out on the semi-circular couch. Lance and Pidge were both vowing to never walk again, Keith’s wolf was roaming the room, getting itself acquainted with everything, and Allura was smiling as her mice crawled into her lap and nuzzled against her affectionately.

 

Keith allowed himself to soak up the comforting atmosphere, closing his eyes and basking in the feeling of being _home_ , for a few moments before he pushed himself to his feet. Telling them all that he’d be back, he set off for his room, making a beeline for his data pad when he got there.

 

His pulse rapid and his head practically spinning as he forced himself to take even, measured breaths, Keith called his mother.

 

He wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted from her or how much of himself he wanted to share with her, but he knew he wanted _something_.

 

And that something, he’d decided, could start with a call.

 

Krolia picked up immediately, her face filling the screen, her eye sharp and tone worried as she asked, “Are you alright?” She was trying to peer past Keith, as if imaginary enemies just outside her line of sight would become visible at any second.

 

Keith stared at her, nodding. “Yeah,” he replied. “Yeah, I’m alright. I was wondering if we could talk?”

 

Krolia’s expression morphed into one of blatant surprise, then softened. “Of course,” she said, possibly a bit too quickly, her eagerness practically tangible through the screen. “What did you want to talk about?”

 

“Nothing major, really.” He didn’t think he was ready for any heavy questions. “Um, how are you? I guess, we could start there…”

 

Krolia smiled, only a faint upturn of her lips, but one that was undeniably fond. It made Keith feel uncomfortable while at the same time making him feel warm and loved. It reminded him of the way his father used to look at him. “I’m doing great,” she replied. “Really, really great. It’s so good to see you Keith.”

 

Keith smiled back, still nervous and conflicted and his heart aching, but also happy and relieved – feeling like a large weight had been taken off of his shoulders. And when he responded to her an almost involuntary, “You too,” he was pretty positive he actually meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn’t make it into the final cut of this chapter because I decided Keith should be a rational person, but each time I see it in my notes I laugh so I’m including it here:
> 
> Lance having asked Keith what he does with his hair.  
> Keith: “I wash it?”  
> Lance: “With?”  
> “Soap.”  
> Horrified whisper, hand pressed to his chest. “ _Soap_?”  
>  *insert Keith giving a verbal demonstration while Lance laments*  
> Lance: “Please tell me you at least use conditioner.”  
> “…And if I told you I’ve never seen a bottle of condition in my-”  
> “I would cry Keith. I would cry.”


End file.
